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Sunday 26 May 2019

Moorpools





The pools peppered the moor
With out-of-date water.
I looked sky-deep
Into the acrid peat-black.
A pale, known face
(With a black scowl)
Rippled back at me.
And water striders, machine-like,
Skated on that scummy surface.

What a lovely little world!

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