Wednesday twentyseventh
set in the autum, winter crossover
the streets which makeup my daily walk
dark, dampened by last nights rain
the sky above overcast
in a tomb like greyness
no birds heard, the roads quiet
I walk alone with my thoughts
still waking, yawning, sitring
my eyes heavy, sleep deprived
bones ache, shins sore
distant sounds, traffic rumbles
beyond the houses I pass
further up the road
a steel frame cimbs upwards
carrying electric cables
which buzz in the air
I walk on a little further
entering the same building
as so many days before
a life in employment
another day, same again
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem