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May 2020
They left it in lines of freshly cut hay
The workmen, over the playing fields today

Some love the smell as it floats in the air
The dogs nose right through it but there is nothing there

In some in brings tears to the eyes and gentle sneeze
A cough or a croak or a chesty wheezeΒ Β 

I love the smell of freshly cut grass
Getting closer to normality
Terence James Potter
Written by
Terence James Potter  69/M/Wales
(69/M/Wales)   
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