5.1.16

5.1

A feeble mist hangs subservient

Beneath the blanched winter sky

And under foot grass gamely springs

Through soil that is soaked

Partial it seems to any impression

The indent of feet. Tyre tracks

All casual traffic etched in frosted dew.

Beyond the line of trees

I hear the pullulating rumble

Of a motorway carrying earnest people

On their high missions

All of us oblivious to these vivid truths

The simple things we forget

Because they are casual

The loose change of the everyday

That slips through the lining and seams

Beyond physical constraints

But I am minded to interpret this

As time passing ( as it does)

That half perceived commodity

Before the lights go down.

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