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Monday, 28 February 2022

Final Tenancy - For The Pub Landlord’s Son

How light is the day
Without a trouble to care for
How far is the sight
From there to the seashore

How human the slight
When choosing the decor
How high flies the kite
When we opened the White Door

How the aircraft offered delight
To follow the marks on the cabin floor
No more panic, or freeze, or fight, or flight
Nothing stored away as then with the rip-roar