January
A grandly dismal winter day: the sky'sThe grubby color of the snow that's
Melting underneath. The streets
Are strips of salt and sand which
Bear the filthy vehicles of cheerless
Drones in overcoats whose jobs
Take them from home before it's
Light, and only let them come back
When the light has gone. Two more
Months of this, at least, of cold and
Dim, depressing skies, a tableau
Of such wretchedness it must be
Labeled grand.
Poetry by Lawrence Beck
Read 64 times
Written on 2018-01-09 at 21:00
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