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I was lucky
I have long known the click of keys,
the clack of heels and ‘hurr’ of laboured
breath as joggers slap
and cough down winding paths.
I know the taffeta rustle as trees
in full leaf betray the expectant breeze.
How familiar ferries blare through clanking yachts and how the slap and slosh
of their wake washes the harbour rocks.
I feel the ground beneath me tremble
as a passing subterranean train races on
and the old earth exhales through crackling grass.
