The lights change
traffic crawls past
the discount stores
the charity shops and tanning salons,
off-licences and bookies,
the barbers and Greggs;
Another bleary-eyed morning
drab and dreich,
the cityscape wears the weather
like a mourning veil
pulled tight across its face;
Shuffling off their coils of ennui
in dribs and drabs
the denizens answer to
the day’s tolling bell,
unprepared,
looking the worse for wear.