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50 years
at the cutting edge
of poetry publishing

Andrew Johnston, from Sol


Shed years,
an overgrown garden,
something the same, again,

that had changed —
day the cousin of an earlier day,
fruit late fruit from

the same green tree. A boy's brush
paints everything
the colour of sky —

years days trees us.
(The sun comes to rest in his hair,
beside his bright blue laughter.)