Sylvia Shackleton


Decending through darkness city lights below. Some see only well-lit motorways, factories, big stores. Some see sparkling, sinuous curves displayed like diamond necklaces in a jeweller’s shop.


I am the folded piece of foolscap,foundin a forgotten box. Open me carefully,who knows,what I might contain. No words,only small piecesof dark, brown tissue;or so you may think. You will …

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