Keys

Corners of parks are
miniature meadows;
twin benches bear
non-identical graffiti.
An improvised balcony:
potted tree, CCTV.

A fenced off rectangle,
once a primary school,
home now to a thriving
cluster of saplings
in thigh-high grass.
Educational paradise.

Industrial buildings
clad in filthy plastic,
lined with rattraps.
Three blossoming trees
peer jealously over
high fences.

Clustered padlocks on
canal bridge railings,
permanent symbols
of young love, probably
long-broken; provokes
the genuine question:

Is the canal bed littered
with discarded keys?

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