London Poem: Day 219

24 March

Lingering still, scratchy and
Ill at ease, noting seems to be
Healing itself simply rolling over;
In circles, the interstate eight.
Carry this everywhere –
Past landmarks seen repeated from
Occasional glances, the road never
Changes, it just rolls on forever
The same stops baking in the lazy sun.
Another day, tomorrow, yes, tomorrow,
I’ll be well.

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Published by

keelancrampsey

In flux

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