Treasure Island

Suzanne Louise Bishop


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Ode To Winter

You always had an overlooked approach,
Your ships armada of billowing cloud sails,
Into my crisp yellow nights, stealing colours,
So we wake to find the trees standing naked,
Like tall, goddess sentials warning of you,
And know not when they came to be that way,
People find you with reproach, so
You execute the elderly and force starlings to flee,
Then sit in a hedgerow on a spider’s web,

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