London Poem: Day 165

29 January

Turn it over and find us here,
Trapped by interwoven supports
That claim us.
We are stuck and overwhelmed
By the ease with which
It all comes –
Living is made before we
Get to it, so chance
Becomes a collection of letters,
Forming a sound neither of us
Ever recognise.
But, for the moment,
We will remain until,
We too, like chance,
Slip off and vanish
Into nothingness.

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Published by

keelancrampsey

In flux

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