London Poem: Day 155

19 January

Anyway the light hits,
The supple bend of sight
And the wide spread of
Landscape beyond
Is okay with me,
But the day moves
And so does the night,
Swallowing the life
Too timid to move.
The scene, building,
Asks to be seen but
I close my eyes waiting
For a gentle pry
Though I know preoccupation
Has gotten there first.
The stutter and slip
Yet unlived, but still seen,
Stops me from taking the step forward
To ask if you will open your
Eyes with me.

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In flux

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