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Wednesday, 25 July 2012
Six weeks a student teacher,
first experience of a modern school,
light and airy, one to die for - and the thought
was never far away. Adjacent to
So every half-an-hour or so
this vista through the classroom's picture window:
a long procession and a puff of smoke.
Sometimes a puff of smoke and a procession.
Beyond the crematorium
another one, for pets.
This too, had its own (smaller) puffs of smoke.
And so I'd wonder,
the two puffs coinciding,
if perhaps they'd met,
the pet's soul and its human counterpart,
and if they had, what greeting would they get
when they would reach their final destination?