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Seagulls

27 Mar

And she wondered if it was worth it

The three hundred and fifty miles

The train, ordering the ticket

Changing minds and refunding it

Going on a whim and bunking to the main station

Then standing on platform 4 for three hours

Not brave enough to get on

Finding the balls

Then biting nails to the end of the line

The bus to nowhere

Walking up the hill, always steeper then before

Tap tap tapping

And having it slammed full in the face

Then the inevitable long road home

Music fluttering from the dying walkman

And a setting sun behind

Back home

If this is it

And the seagulls laugh again

 

 

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Posted by on March 27, 2012 in Photography, poem, poetry

 

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