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Poems

My Grandmother Said

10 July 2014

1:00 PM

10 July 2014

1:00 PM

It was the First World War.
Her husband was away.
So she knew fear, but also found
new freedom in the day.


On Thursdays, with the farmer’s wife,
old basket in her lap,
by butter slabs, she rode to Brigg,
shawled, in the pony trap.



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