London Poem: Day 104

29 November

Pieced together, edged in
Like coinciding grooves
The world fits together,
Connecting us over oceans.
The walk, however, is too long,
And I don’t know where I’ll
Go instead.
Here, there are sharp edges
Yet to be worn down with use,
So it is a matter of waiting.
The clock ticks,
And we bypass choice,
And that is how it will go.
Wherever you are
The rest of the world can wait.

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Published by

keelancrampsey

In flux

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