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TANGMERE FHS – Ruth A. Parkinson
it rests awhile,
the steam, its steady breath,
the coals, its warm heart,
of a sudden, at such a pace,
its lungs begin to race,
a whistle is blown,
iron and steel gather momentum... then ….
it is no more ....
I hear, in the distance, its mournful cry,
I watch its breath evaporate amongst the roof tops,
as it steals away up the steep gradient,
and that little harbour station
is left alone, again,
so alone
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