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He is

by Niamh O’Connell

 

He is a cigarette finished in three pulls 

He is the silent appreciation of a joke

He is the tugged hairs of his beard 

And he is a furrowed brow

 

And yet he is a tear wiped away after the Soaps

He is the extra squeeze before releasing a hug

He is the text to ask if all is well

He is the unexpected “I’m proud”

 

Quarryman

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