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Retirement

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They pack his future, tidy, into the truck.
Its bright paintwork
Gleaming green in the mid-day sun.
Resigned, he waits in the yard, taking stock.
The remnants of his life lie rusted and redundant
Their working days are done.

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About Hawksword

Reluctant writer, word dabbler...tea maker, coffee drinker, rum imbiber, chocolate eater.

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