Robert Dummett


Those Solar Days

Nothing striking nor spectacular ruffled
those solar days. Hours strolled by without
fuss or clamour so we railed roads to rinks
and glided like corbeaux wide and focused,
knees bare, legs crisscrossing
with arms flung at sides aiding balance
and propulsion, we skated headlong.
Bruises from bumpy lanes and soft kisses
from cars in chataigne-coloured jackets

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