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Heat (1950)

Slung into tumbledown shed,
crowned by caulked roof,
stalking cat removed itself
while winter's fuel
flowed from hessian sacks.
Among propped shafts,
faint laughter, dark jokes,
back breaking labour and sweat,
as men played roulette with death.
A canary sang in its crepuscular home,
while we remained warm.

15 Apr 18

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Excellent  poem
 — rivergood

I always like to be at the coal face of my poems.....most burn down to nothing riverdance.

Larry well mined Lark
 — larrylark