Poet: Brian McCabe
Post Code: EH09

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It
Mohammed's lovely daughter
who has been lately married

sweeps over the road
in her robes of blue and silver -

like the earth, wrapped around
by the sea and the sky.

The woman from number five
with dead hair, squint specs

- a skeleton in a raincoat,
an absence with an opinion -

says, "There's anither yin
that thinks she's It."
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