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home thoughts from abroad.

It could well be raining
in Kendal right now,
- it often is.
How I wish you were here
with me,
crouching behind this
sun-baked dusty mud-brick wall,
with thumping heart, dry mouth,
& the stench of burning rubber, petrol & sweat;
with the rat-tat-tat over there, the flies
& the occasional “whumph”
of an RPG landing close.
Yes, I wish you were here,
right now, old friend,
with me,
instead of home,
my home,
shagging my wife
& drinking my beers
as you undoubtedly are.