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Daisy Chains

Daisy chains, the children
In the morning sun, lolling,
Rolling on the lawn – eyes keen
For the Mr Whippy van
Scottie running for her ball
Holding hands they feign to fall
Wasps are buzzing with the bees
Home Service of the BBC
Rules the waves but not the clouds

that chase the kids inside for games
of Blind Man’s Bluff and pick-up-sticks
while petals wilt in the failing
infant summer light of evening

Mother is watching them
Cold war autumn stalking them
Satellites of first design
Sprinkling dust on yellow lawns
Of daisy flowers and rainbow lives
Fading into darkening skies.

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