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Cottonopolis 1852

I observed huge factories
wrapped in darkness,
yet within a few moments
illuminated in such ways
each seemed grander than a palace.
Clapping sounds of wooden clogs
echoed on cobbled streets,
touched by fine rain.
Without word
from every side,
a tide of humankind
hurried down damp pavements
No one sighed or cried out,
huddled in threadbare cotton clothes
they hastened towards
dreary occupations.
The crowd thinned,
noise died away.
A hundred clocks
struck the hour of six.
All were at their stations,
streets once more
silent, deserted.
An entire population had appeared
then was swallowed
by those giant buildings.
Rising on all sides
a rushing surge of sound,
as if trees were there
with wind stirring among them.
Thousands of wheels, shuttles,
small and large began to move.
The panting of steam engines
hurried all along to the pace
of their relentless rhythms.

14 May 11

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Brilliant time passage. I read and wanted more
 — justicely

I loved the picture of this Larry lark meadows. Gorgeous, and how I would love to photograph. iiiiii. now i have to log in to give you a tin.
 — unknown

Thanks justicely
 — larrylark

I hope its a baked bean tin
 — larrylark