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I, Londoner

It hurt to forget and take the wrong line home To steal into my flat Hoping the resident wouldn’t come. To have to think about my movement through the crowds With my bags To follow familiar paths in the beautiful soft rain Unblinking, unthinking, dazzled by the view From my own Blackfriars’s Bridge So often walked these past years, Finding order, thinking through. The familiar sight of the special evening light And misty low cloud Drizzling on the Thames, Dark, gripping and crying out loud. I have not left my home! I just had to move out I do not know when I will be able to move back again. I still come to work a few days a week But no time to enjoy, Hurry in, commute out. This is still my home, Central London, my flat. The flat for 13 years and Clerkenwell four more. I did not tire of London I do not prefer the sea Every project there is an effort for me. My baby is confused, we are Londoners both But the last time we were there, He raged and locked me out. So I said I would go home. To my one home by the sea, But that was a lie, London is still me. The past has changed I have to forge a new life. Should I line these stairs with pictures of the bridges Over the river blue carpet tiptoeing down? This house was our escape from the strained London air I worry I’ll resent it now keeping me there.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2019




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