Monday, August 22, 2011


After I had walked
Round and round the place
Up and down every street
Looked at houses
All looking the same
With impersonal faces
Looking through me
With no plants or trees
To soften the implacable sun,
Invite songbirds or butterflies
No hint of laughter or babies crying
I had almost turned back
When he came towards me
Eyes shining, hair streaming
Asking me, where they were
Those who were selling bubbles.

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