Three Seperate Partial Poems Sellotaped Together To Appear As One

The cricket chorus chitters
as the sun pops off to bed
soon the nightly blanket
will be pulled over our heads

the cellist in the underground
wiped his weary brow
and held the bow above his head
to take his final bow

there were two herons staring down
each other on the marsh
I think they’d had an argument
they sounded rather harsh

my rhythm has escaped me
I haven’t caught my time.
so instead today
I wrote this way
in these few disparate lines

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