Poem by Sharon Gatfield
The gale blew dull clouds
Everywhere in the sky
In the high street everyone
Had their own dismal cloud
Such clouds are more a part of them
Then their own shadows.
White Coat Where the ice had broken up
Lay a woolly white seal pup
Culled was its oval glossy head
That was cracked like the shell of an egg
And pretty fur covered the culler's life.
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