Today's lyrical jottings

A January Day in West Sussex


As the glass fogs over

and the street disappears,

Rows of dirty houses

Erased by condensation.

I hover outside windows

 Seeking the stories within

Wondering if lonely souls

Gaze outwards, pining.

Suddenly the world is shrinking

And I am back, chilled on the bed

Hand shaking around cold pen

Feeling so small

under the weight of the

Enormity of it all


Beck Sian 

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