London Poem: Day 338

21 July

On a string, the push and
Pull of sweetly singing notes
Make everything seem as though
The world is laying in wait
For the return.
Over the trees, speckled thinly,
The song is nothing more
Than comfort; thick, full sounds
Telling the story of a life in
Necessity, a life not forgotten,
But held in remission.

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Published by

keelancrampsey

In flux

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