Poem 273 – The Morning People

Almost alone on these cobbled streets
But for that passer-by, wrapped in his coat,
Who likewise glances at I,
And that pair, perhaps lovers, perhaps friends,
Or else two folk with the same destination in mind,
Who knows? That woman there,
With her bag and stern expression
Makes the last of this strange collection
Beneath the dim light of the early sky –
The sky of we, the morning people.


Dear readers,

There is something wonderful about walking in an early-morning street with few others in it. It is pleasant in any city I have been to, including my current residence, London.


Tell us what you thought, or if to you these words are naught.

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