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The wind knows where I live A polythene bag blew my way today, Came tumbling along in a very strange way, And there your name on a little tag, Your telephone number, could I ring you back?
A coincidence, so some might think, But why would the wind know where I live? And why would it know that at half past three, I'd be lazing about on a sunny beach?
The sun was high and the day was hot, I'd just slipped off my see-through socks, When a gust of wind from where I don’t know,
Wrapped your name and number around my toe.
© Joseph G Dawson
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