The Day That Followed

Wash white, whitewash walls
Halls of stumble and falls,
big troubles and small,
hard to recall sprawl
Examine, enquire
Consider it all

Switch evidence of mutual existence
for spray-on scents of simulated citrus
Creak and groan of fading home
(as they call it)
Echo in bones of roaming clone
Unmanned drone circles alone overhead

Dreaded dismantling of abandoned bed
Fake festive fir forlornly fed into
fossilised photographs
That which comes but once a year
must certainly come again
Surfing soft December rain
it remains to remind of the pain, the strain
The train pulls away

Platform fills with handkerchiefs and swan song
Train slowly leaves and before long
one wildly wonders, was thunder imagined all along?
Did a longing to belong
turn two rights into one wrong?
Have I shone as brightly as the next “one”?

Dismantle, disinfect, move on
Wash white that whitewashed wall
Pour, strike, light, fall
Stand alone and tall
Push ball back into play
Prepare for dawn on the second day

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