London Poem: Day 159

23 January

The day dawns as scheduled
And calls upon life to
Stir from sleep
To wander, groggy, into
A world still new.
Everyday is birth and breadth,
To slip in and tumble out
Like languid flowers fresh
From bloom.
As day races to night
Life too races from
Gentle ignorance to
Dark, shapely death.
The world inhaled forgotten
With the world left behind,
To start anew when the morning
Breaks to find us as
Infants once more.


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