sunderland
sets the sun upon a rockpool’s gold
of a winter in longing for summer fools with
buckets and spades and castles with moats
high tide flowing over sand dug boats
full of shrieks and shouts and bailing outs
by kiddies immersed in jolly roger creeks
and feathers atop of the castle’s keep
with seaweed around all slimy and deep
oh come on my summer friends and friends
run and run into the rising sun and
of this and more we’ll speak and speak
when in old age our knees start to creak
and a smile is the worth of that rising sun
and a cheery tear life’s slow setting sun
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