London November

Rainbow over the Shard
black light leftover storm
hammered in the night
waking me.

You called at 4am
I’m tied up in cumuli
nimbus falling from cloud
islands into my own inertia.

London holds its palms up
South Bank to Tower Hill
bidding for attention on
Westminster Bridge downwards to

St Pauls.

The wheel turns as other
wheels do & the plane trees
arc their fingers to November sky
Guy Fawkes lurking on the street

where the Big issue seller
& the unknown soldier
hawk their poppies.

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