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Graham Lindsayonline works |
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The enigma of summer The lamb went to sleep on a bank and dreamed of earth, earthworms, flies grass grew through its pelt. Its mother slid down the slope burning the turf with her decay flies sunned themselves on the skid mark. Skylarks sang in heaven, where God was a huge old bearded head, just outside the blue dome looking in. Sleep tight little lamb like a rock drawing.
© Graham Lindsay |
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