September 6, 2019

When we were last here many decades since,

We were unbroken glass, chipped but clear,

As we walk I’m looking for clues, some hints

To our boyhood spent in this city here.

And it slowly returns, history revealed,

A carved Victorian building, your voice and its tone,

Hidden me...

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© 2018 James Morgan Nash - Writer and Poet - Leeds, West Yorkshire, United Kingdom - james@jamesnash.co.uk 

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