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Why We Die

 

Monstrous earth-movers in orange livery
threaten less when viewed from a moving train.
Appraise their jagged lunges at your leisure.

From the comfort of your chair,
fly from fires you have no need to fight. 
Be happy skirting wrecked ghost towns, 
new scaffold and crane visions appear.

Stations not stopped at,
piteous with reasons why,
appeal with beige genies 
leaning from quaint blasted chimneys.

All of this strikes at the soul much softer
rattling right on through, 
focused on making your connection.

 

◄ Holiday

Despondent Correspondent ►

Comments

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John Botterill

Mon 10th Jan 2022 00:34

A brilliant poem, Adam, which captures a traveller's indifference to what is happening in front of their eyes. A metaphor, perhaps. Wonderful poetry 😀

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