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Rootstock blossom

Somewhere in West Norfolk

From memory lane

Deserting the nest

Into the shadowlands

Quiet please, batteries being re-charged

Survival rations and hard tack

I got me those old Norfolk Bog Door Blues

Next day dawned

Please have a word with the pheasants

As if by magic

Look into my eyes

A wintry shower, freezing later

Praise the lord and pass the logs

One shade of grey and lots of rain

Life measured in Centre-pins