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Poem

A plant called love
A plant called hate

I grew them both 
in my garden.
The plant called love was hard work.

Poem

Behind you
Windrush child
palm trees wave goodbye

above you
Windrush child
seabirds asking why

around you
Windrush child
blue water rolling by

Poem

In the beginning was the word
and the word is ours:

the names of places,
the names of flowers,
the name of names,
words are ours.

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