Always seems to be the morning walk to work, the fall into twilight down those stretched out afternoons to the early nights that come in quick now like sudden tides. Drifting in the waters, so imagine; that blue sky above, and no earth, we are adrift here. Lets hope we can breathe underwater.
Sleep at night is deep., and drenched full of dreams unremembered when that unwelcome alarm goes off at 7:30am. Drag myself out of bed, and into the murk that accompanies dawn; someone hasn't tidied up the day, lets shovel all that darkness into the corners, under the carpets, out the window.
Walk through the mess night has left on the way to work, roadside puddles full of 3:00am.
Walk through the mess night has left on the way to work, roadside puddles full of 3:00am.
A sudden yearning; a London suburban skyline, reddened horizon, - sunset over a country of tube lines and houses. All those secret places of suburbia spread out, and behind me - because we're on the edge of London here, the darkness of unexplored country. The unrequited night, heavy without street light and the meanderng territories of silent rivers and unmapped fox-holes, long since abandoned.
