THE PERFECT TEAM NEEDS PERFECT PLAYERS

The boy broke
the old man’s window.
He said he felt fine
and still loved the old man.

The old man broke the boy’s window.
He wanted to show him the view,
and how the lawn led on to the trees
and, high above, the empyrean blue.

The boy was allergic to draughts
and the glass had kept them out,
and though he knew that there was a view
he had no need to know what about.

.

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