Belmont Village
Belmont wallows in westering twilight,
sheep graze in cold pastures,
hares scamper, ignoring
a circling hawk.
Blackpool's urban sprawl crawls off
up to the scarred horizon, the Tower
pricks the heavens like a syringe
and spills the blood-red sun.
Evening falls, I'm all alone
and free to stare, a wondrous,
star-flecked firmament,
a phosphorescent flare!
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