tale to tale

London is paused.
The great grey sky lays dormant
Over hollow towers and eerie streets.
Our buildings now lack neighbours,
And are held now by a purple aura
Which lingers in the air.

I miss the screaming of the city,
The pulse that runs as deep as the tubes,
And as high as the cranes.
The chimneys are empty,
The trains pass like gazelles,
And the people, usually distant,
Have taken the life from their eyes.

I’m leaving for a while,
To play nostalgia
On livelier shores.
Now, we are all waiting,
For London to rise,
From it’s ‘Snoring 20s’ limbo.