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Helen Scadding

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They picked wild garlic, dandelion leaves, early nettles,
pennywort and primroses to make a salad,

a bowlful of riverbank
left in a Tupperware box for lunch.

They forgot it in the rush to catch the train.
I froze it, with my unanswered questions, for later.
Now the primroses shiver under misted plastic
like pale faces of children drowning in green water.

Published in Green Ink – Forage

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