Monday’s Sun

The city on a wet and dismal day.
The rain has washed the colour down the drains.
The buildings drawn in monochromic grey.
The black clouds anchored still, as though by chains.
The dead commuters trudge across the Thames.
No need for eyes, they’ve seen it all before.
No shade, no hue, no brightly coloured gems.
One path, one pace, one goal; the northern shore.
But in this Monday grey assent, I see
Your ev’ning dress of joyful Sunday red.
Against the tide you dance your way to me,
And where you glance your rainbow smile is shed.

You pass me by, your eyes on last night’s fun.
You’re unaware that I have seen the sun.

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About snodlander
Snodlander is the nom de plume of Bob Simms. He is an IT trainer, but it's not as glamourous as it sounds. When he's not enthralling classes with adventures through SQL Server, he writes, draws and drinks his own home-brew. Buy his novel on Amazon Kindle at The Young Demon Keeper, It's 74p, for crying out loud!

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