On the sunny side

How I miss those vapour trails
the crush on the tube that screams
underground on electric rails
the queues at the bus stop

the ‘top of the morning’
comes around now at three
and tea time is any time
between here, now and eternity

I wait patiently
wash my hands frequently
follow advice

who’s a good boy then?
as if dogs could answer.

I am becoming lost amongst the lost
the last hope recedes
the day of reckoning is nigh
there is
doom everywhere
which is mood in a mirror
and we only get what we see.

© 2020, John Smallshaw.