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John Edward Smallshaw
Poems
Jun 2016
852 feet
Eyes on the landing
eyes on the hall
eyes from the dark side
my eye's on the ball.
Rats on the sinker
the ship's clinker built
deep in the mire
downed in the silt.
I flew with Wilbur
Orville stayed behind
Kitty Hawk didn't talk, she sang,
and someone rang the president.
We built the future on wooden spars
aeroplanes and racing cars
no one said it was wrong.
Written by
John Edward Smallshaw
68/Here and now
(68/Here and now)
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