It’s raining grey <br />over a strangely <br />mixed landscape <br />of cranes and lorry parks <br />and towering islands <br />of apartment blocks; <br /> <br />with a small grey muddy river <br />forced into conformity <br />by straight concrete walls; <br />softened by the proliferation <br /> of grass; <br /> and trees; <br />that refuse to be ordered <br />to stay in line. <br /> <br />A grey haze softens the outline <br />of an unknown horizon, <br />with just a handful of people in sight, <br />((((a tiny fragment)))) <br />of the twenty million <br />I am told live in this great city; <br /> <br />I feel uneasy, the sky is empty <br />……………………of movement: <br /> <br />Grey thoughts, grey days; <br /> but just one bird, <br /> black or white or coloured, <br /> or even grey; <br /> just one bird <br /> would cast <br /> this mist away.<br /><br />David Taylor<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/no-birds/
