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Whether the day should be dim
As British days so often are
Or rippled with flickering, blinding light
Pinched between buildings
And mirror-flashed by windows
Regardless, I am smiling.
Regardless I am smiling standing in rain
Soup-like-puddles splashed by cars.
And occasionally between two points in time
Like a child's string-joined-cups, remembering
I laugh through over-flowing
A piston release of happiness
What was younger yearning for a woman
Is years calmed into contentment
Lonely years turning love into:
Less instinctive, less spontaneous
Less painful in absence, less confusing
Just this: happiness overflowing.
By Dave Schofield
Dave lives in Bolton and has a creative writing masters from the University of Bolton. He has been published several times for his poetry and prose and is a keen photographer. His blog is Manchester's Artistic Son.