The light was cold
The wet tarmac
Reflected the sun
Causing me
To close my eyes
This is December I thought
Late on in my life
Yet I feel
Way younger
Than those about me
The mornings pain
Is in the very centre
Of my upper back
Just below
The neck line
The day is calm
Although
The tea bags are split
And have made a mess
I send an email to complain
The wild green moss
On next doors
Rickety shed roof
Glistens, as do the catkins
Which wave in the breeze
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