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The Last Carriage

I sit on the waiting seat on the station

Not alone

Many friends are waiting as well

We share the same destination

 

Not long after, the train arrives

I look at my ticket,

"Ah, not my train," I say

Some friends board

They wave their hands

We exchange smiles

I'm left with the unfinished puzzle in my hand

 

Not long after, another train arrives

I look at my t...

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The Traveller

Alf Smith was his name, though, we should remember him

As more than the labourer on a small Welsh farm

Who milked the cows and tended every farmer whim;

Twice daily fitting clusters onto teats and pouring milk to churns,

Taken for collection to stand beside the lane between the ferns.

Twice daily, too, he cleaned the shed with hose and broom

And waited to hear what chores would f...

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