the morning after a party
to be alone today
everyone late for work and tired
even those who didn't have
a dot to drink
the slats of our team
with all gone their way
one by one home today
locking up Frida strolls
as I cycle summer empty city streets
finding post cards never read
in the box waving
the neighbours of the north
well into summer drinks
with all the others some free
their music stealing
loneliness from my soul
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