Once there, railways carried you
along from the southern border
to the northernmost tip,
winding past fields and beaches,
but never woods, no woods.
From time to time, you were
deposited in small towns,
to admire the unique islands
of culture, where brilliant rows
of gilded street lights shone, and
blue-fingered women, suspended
from crimped celadon roofs,
wrapped pale marble colonnades
in handknitted swathes of wool,
to protect them from the cold.
(c) 2018, by Hannah Six
Image: Pexels
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