London Poem: Day 240

14 April

Give me the words to
Sound the sound, and then
You’ll find me in the clear.
The sun cuts through,
Little by little,
Growing in rapid bursts
To light the way
To open space.
I know the words, but
Forgot the shape.
The shape is the same
As it’s always been,
But I’m feeble,
Struggling to keep
It all straight.

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Published by

keelancrampsey

In flux

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