Choice

 

Warm air rang chilled,

reverberating metal

hammer on an anvil.

Church steeple still

 

in pleasant landscape

stopped to look

at small life given.

Sleepy world glancing

 

his way for once

and simmering summer

sultry birdsong sang

uninhibited.

 

So little england carried on

and one who came to pass

and had lived their way

no longer had a choice.

 

 

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