Jigsaw Springs

When I think back, it never rained. On these days, the church spire reached proudly above the houses, the only thing higher was the fire ball sun.

Hedges, a fortress. Tomatoes and Marrows. Runner beans grow where the anderson shelter once stood. The land was utilised.

Beneath them – a trickle. Stand still and listen for it. Water everywhere.

On the edge of this big city, let me float with the babblng. The spring beneath feeds us all.

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