A Flock of Startled Birds
He had sat for an hour on a long, low, flat rock,
He had checked himself over from bald patch to sock.
His leather shoes burnished to a mirror-like shine,
Tie ironed flat – a perfect straight line.
Trouser legs spotless, each one like a razor
Creases removed from a freshly-pressed blazer.
Beside him his beret, shaped,...
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