2021-11-27 16:49:04 +00:00
|
|
|
---
|
|
|
|
|
title: "London - A Poem"
|
|
|
|
|
date: 2007-06-09T16:40:05Z
|
|
|
|
|
tags: ["london", "places"]
|
|
|
|
|
topics: ["literature", "poetry"]
|
2021-11-27 16:50:37 +00:00
|
|
|
image: /img/london-cranes.jpg
|
|
|
|
|
draft: false
|
2021-11-27 16:49:04 +00:00
|
|
|
---
|
|
|
|
|
My first visit to London, was during a holiday trip in 2007. Here's how I memorialized it
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
> ```
|
|
|
|
|
> The ancient matron grasps longingly for the sky,
|
|
|
|
|
> a crowd of bony fingers stretching upward,
|
|
|
|
|
> black threads tied to each one,
|
|
|
|
|
> laden with dangling bits of civilization renewed.
|
|
|
|
|
>
|
|
|
|
|
> Below, in her bowels, a gritty brown aroma,
|
|
|
|
|
> and clattering, grumbling, tin boxes
|
|
|
|
|
> scatter frantically along well-worn paths,
|
|
|
|
|
> long sullen with a heavy memory
|
|
|
|
|
> of countless other footfalls.
|
|
|
|
|
>
|
|
|
|
|
> Humming and pulsing with the life force
|
|
|
|
|
> of a thousand generations,
|
|
|
|
|
> she swells with pride at eager dawn,
|
|
|
|
|
> and heaves a great sigh at setting sun.
|
|
|
|
|
>
|
|
|
|
|
> She is the gray lady of the West.
|
|
|
|
|
> The history of the anglo man is embedded in her bricks,
|
|
|
|
|
> and the future of the world flows through her heart,
|
|
|
|
|
> and into the sea.
|
|
|
|
|
> ```
|
