* Autumn Days *
The cloud is a smeared veneer of grey
World isolated and drawn back
The ionosphere is out of sight
And the cool air grips bodies warm
Makes us think of warm beds and hot breakfasts
Which we have undertaken to miss
To catch a train into heart of a city
Where our working day awaits
Behind a counter or a workstation
So many battery chickens in our cages
Producing our ergs of work
In someone else's greater destiny
And wondering if we take a break
Rain from clouds will shake
Drown every thread of wear
Soak our skin and plaster hair
As clouds low and heavy gather
We wait the harder storms of autumn
As the days of sunlight shorten.
No comments:
Post a Comment