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flat light in the morning –
the joy of the minimal –
the unknown empire adumbrates
all plans are at peril, relativised again
for were you not the child
caught in a summer shower
who ran in the drive-way
past the half-bricked house for grownups
to find in the back yard it was dry
to wonder how your house
could be on the rim of a rain shower
without there being a mystery
without there being a mystery –
you’ve a weakness for mystery
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