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There was a tear, not rapid enough,
ripped away and salted. Taking the air,
a strange bag lady lent an ear to passing trade,
but instead heard only doves screeching.

Her shadow had jumped away, a skip,
just shading grass, verging the roadside.
Drained of hope, she was a long way
from home and coos and nervous sympathy.

Alone, distant from further visits 
to her private waterfall that had cascaded
over once too often, she left the others
floundering, clinging to rocks of safe sanity.

Not in her perfect mind, blasted from heathen health,
she floated along a river of tarmac,
as woods surrounded her and continued
to move towards her blurred misconceptions.

A sway from weaving vehicles, a fleeing sought
in the headlights lit up, leered and was gone:
gone beneath a relentless rush of scurry.
Something skidded - and was lost in the twilight.


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