tale to tale

London is waking back up,

Trembling at the joints,

This wounded beast is stirring.

 

Long sighs and deep cries

Are all that are uttered,

As she lies vulnerable.

 

There are maggots nested in her heel,

Their long sleep disrupted by

Pumping organs and a slow ticking.

 

I look into her eye,

It’s alert with a ruby stare,

With her gaze focused solely on the horizon