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  • Sam Hacking

Dusk


The birds are quiet

buds form on empty trees


A sign saying ‘land acquired’

someone has spray painted over land


An empty pot of Haagan Das impaled on railings

a safety pin on the floor


Daffodils


The distinct sound of Long Tailed Tits

a troop of them flickering through hedges, chattering, tiny fluffed up bodies.


Birds rush to shelter from oncoming night.


Dusk; The clinging of light, colours soften, tones change

it all moves into shadow.

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