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Rookery
Jane was wearing something simple,
not a little black dress, but something clean,
nice lines, her shapely bod
fitting all the crevices
nicely.
the others hoisted themselves
on stools, long legs promising
what? to whom?
and Frank didn’t mind,
pushing his way inside,
settling in a booth, red seats,
big table, his arms
outstretched to all
the ladies, their flashing
smiles warming him like
a covey of birds welcoming
a new egg.
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