The Hermit of Hull.

Lived in his days
It seems awaiting
The long coats
From over the fields.

Priests and Doctors
To shatter the days
He was happiest in    
Pondering the question.

Were each days we live?
As moon follows day,
The ‘Kraken’ of his soul…
Monster, deep – swearing.

His quarrel within
Burned with enigma’s
Opinions floated by minions?
Missed the genius.

That of Philip Larkin.




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