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Saturday Morning 1961

Jane climbed off
the Saturday bus to town

her black hair ruffled
by the wind

her eyes
looking over at you

her mother close by
you standing by the wall

having climbed from the bus
a few moments before

your mother stood
and spoke to others

you watched as Jane buttoned up
her coat against the winter cold

her fingers turning blue
then she moved over to you

and said
I saw you by the water tower last night

as we drove by
my father visiting

a parishioner in the village
I was watching the sun

moving beyond the Downs
you said

like some giant moving
away to sleep

she smiled
and surreptitiously

she touched your hand
her mother's head

looking the other way
talking to your mother

of her husband's work
of church or of weather

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