Will Harris

Five Poems

The Heart of England

After work I look forward
to songs at The Chequers, a shamefaced walk
with a girl, fishing for tench and eels,
even cricket. But after marriage all that is past.

The workmen are gone, faint lights appearing
through the blinds of finished houses.
There is no sunset, only a veil of mist.
The end of the day dies a natural death in bed.



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