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John Edward Smallshaw
Poems
Jan 23
Peter
I was picking pickled onions
which only became pickled
after I picked them then
pickled them
before then
they were just boring.
it's hard work on the land
breathtakingly backbreaking.
but worth taking the job to
be in the great outdoors.
Written by
John Edward Smallshaw
68/Here and now
(68/Here and now)
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Ken Pepiton
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Weeping willow
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