London Poem: Day 242

16 April

The day was soft with
The light growing steadily,
Green and spacious,
But who forgot the lines
Earth draws as seasons
Decide to change at random?
Little speckles of life
Falling over our eyes,
Splices the crass, ugly
Contours of the world at large.
We are stranded,
No way out,
But warm weather seem to
Help is forget that fact.

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Published by

keelancrampsey

In flux

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