Coal Smoke in Archway

Late night poetry, no rewrites allowed

Image for post
Image for post

Ash clouds my mouth as I crane to the sun

In search of some warmth in a sky set on slumbering

And arrive back at ten.

Back out of London, my Proustian trigger

shot by the bonfire tamed by an old woman-

Yes I am ten and its autumn in nowhere

And my hands are frozen in gloves by the village

And there is smoke in my lungs

Yes, I was ten

Now 5ft 6 walking to lectures

A Madeleine Moment

Written by

24 year old with an awful lot to say about everything. Opinions entirely my own. Usually.

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