Salford, 15th March 2021 – from a writeclub prompt
“A postbox is a box that eats socks“
There’s a reason why they are red.
Just before night fall – the humans put the washing out
in the hope they’ll be dry in the morning
the crows cry out – but everyone’s asleep
as the poor old washing line find’s itself
accosted by the eater of socks
and right socks and left cry out for each other
as the holder of the mail
helps itself to a night time snack
The Inkwell 
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