London-grey Sky The rain has passed and I am walking, turmoil, Under this London-grey sky. Snatches of blue pass through a flecked canopy of endless refraction. I am walking Alone, but surrounded And the shrieks of soaking garments Have passed. I am walking And I am here, but so far from concentrating My mind is on the mundane. Stay here I plead stay here, under this roof fretted with golden fire (as they say) And to see One glass of wine down, walking on, ceaselessly beat back into the current of ease. Moments of lucidity Broken By this utter conviction The sky is crumbling, tumbling, Splintering at the sound of fractures of mind. I am walking I can do no more Clinging to the thin surface of the earth Hurtling Whirling Visceral gasses of space burning Consumed in pitiless stars around As I am walking under this London-grey sky.