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The Great Illusion
A shaft of light slithers through the weathered gap in the sunshine
Crawling over the damp, moulding walls like a serpent, like a creature of art
Twisting and writhing inside the cracks and the broken lines and the peeling paint
That dripped, dripped down onto the broken black gate.
The light blue sky, dipped so artfully with white,
A dreamy q-tip, a rainbow fading colours along the horizon;
A square wall of calm breeze and whispering harmony.
Animals begin to zig-zag through the hidden bushes,
Fur stood up sharply, proudly,
As it surveys its territory.
Badger sniffs the dark brown earth at its feet,
Licks the green grass until it oozes with fresh juice,
And arises from the field a black-and-white blur
of life, newly invigorated from spring, breathing for this year.
Behind Badger arrives a tall, slender figure
A human foot, pale, dirty, and bare
Spread out on the golden grass as brown eyes observe the hurried hare
Who arches her neck back like a swan, like a photograph.
Behind all these innocent visages of life
A cloud darkens the beautiful blue of the sky;
And a purple kite flies, colourful as a peacock,
It is a banner to life, it is a symbol that will never die.