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A Simillacrum Apr 2019
You wrap around
me, like a fog.
Haze of bitter
sweet miasma.
Smothering.
Smothering.
Tony Luxton May 2018
The Calder cut a channel
through the ancient stones of Elmet,
sculpting minds of millstone grit
in moorland weavers' kin.

Poetry coursed his veins.
Clotted domestric pain
flooded his synapse.
His shrouded fame collapsed.
Ted Hughes sometime poet laureate

— The End —