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Al
Poems
Sep 2018
Smoke rings
English tea and scones with cream.
A cigarette dangles from his lips. The blonde-haired girl watches as the smoke rises. Between them a newspaper sits upon the table.
They have stopped to peruse their purchases:
The Bletchley code-breaker story always enthralls, and John Lennon never grows old.
Smoke rings continue to rise, eventually to fade away .
Written by
Al
M/UK
(M/UK)
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