Canals

Instead of school,

I like to walk by the canal,

along the towpath,

under urine-scented bridges.

It blends with my mood.

Sometimes my girlfriend walks with me.

We say little, but I crush her hand

in mine. We walk into the countryside,

where the larches sadly drip

with winter. I think of Mother

in her hospital ward.

How he put her there.

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