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Poetry

Winter

Eleanor Gruer

After work, I leant on the glossed railings and waited
for the dark swell of starlings.

***

From the Co-op, I bought a four pack of fruit scones.

With my back against the eggshell blue wall,
I squatted on the floor
of my one bed maisonette.

I broke the scones apart,
picked all the raisins out, set them on a tissue,
then ate them in one fistful,

leaving the crumbs as an offering on the rug.

 

Eleanor Gruer