Killing Time
S Sally Plumb Plumb
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Suddenly, I'm old.
My bones, slaked with cold,
jangle with the sound
of rubbing in my ears.
Tears don't come easy.
The teasing street wind
whistles without favour,
and I am slow.
Taking refuge in Tesco,
talking to widow women,
likened with the situation....
their shopping trolleys
half full of expense and need,
I pause....
Freed from time
we kill it
with our jargon.
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