Mercian Hymns XVII
He drove at evening through the hushed Vosges. The car radio,
Glimmering, received broken utterance from the horizon of storms…
‘God’s honours – our bikes touched: he skidded and came off.’ ‘Liar.’ A
Timid father’s protective bellow. Disfigurement of a village king. ‘Just
Look at the bugger…’
His maroon GT chanted then overtook. He lavished on the high valleys its
Haleine.
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