Monday, 25 March 2013

Self Pity on a train

On a grey winter’s day, this cold’s no joke!
I’m on my way into the Smoke
where clouds won’t break, the sun won’t show her face.
No one speaks, there’s no embrace.

So, what is this grieving for a body’s loss?
In the end, I’ll get my sweet release from pitch and toss

but now it’s time to sow some seeds –little deeds.

1 comment:

  1. I like this. Encapsulates the city both with the words and images and also with the cadence. You capture the flick flash of images seen from a train. Clever and engaging work.