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Mar 2021
Bay
I grew on after she was gone
unaware that routines of love
high days and Sundays
had woven spells

Bay leaf smell
kindnaps back
to a kitchen where windows,
steamed with riches baked and boiled,
wombed us from the outside world

Born to patience and a place at the table
each chair full, with more squeezed if needed
while more than food sustained us
Dave Robertson
Written by
Dave Robertson  46/M/UK
(46/M/UK)   
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