Shelford Hill
At home
And what is earth's eye, tongue or heart else, where Else, but in dear and dogged man?
This is where he lives, with her and him and him/her, on the top of the hill that is no longer a hill. Contours visible and invisible, once felt, now barely felt, elevator land and only imposing when, trying to push a pram up the side, sweat beads form, jostle and sway.
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