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After the rain
Joy, and the scent of elder
A field day for
Lapwing throngs
Their little treasures scuttle
as a red grouse chuckles
At the other grouses wattle
My beautiful young hare
With sleepy eyes
Rests in her damp cool bed
of remembering
Wondering when
Her angel might visit again.
Curlews calling over the moss
The brightest of hopes
For the lost and the lonely
#CoSopoetry