London Poem: Day 199

4 March

One more day springs forward,
Haphazard and falling slant and uneven –
The sound is too much;
The silence, the curl and lip hovering
Hotly with nowhere to go,
Someone asks, “Today?”
And blankly I lie, “No.”
Living and breathing it all comes
Full circle for it knows no other shape.
Sadly, no one knows any other shape,
To tell, to weep and dream without sleep.
We feed to fill and
Finish the circle to do it all again.

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Published by

keelancrampsey

In flux

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