You
are somewhere close
yet dislocated, sheltered
in your centered peace
adrift beside all certainty.
We
turn as apron-ed satellites
in matinee of gentle speak,
our mundane, London-Saturday
the soundscape to your stasis.
Surrendered
to this bastion of valiant
machinery. Your pillars
in this paradise of waiting.
Jun 6, 2018
Jun 6, 2018 at 12:29 PM UTC
You
are somewhere close
yet dislocated, sheltered
in your centered peace
adrift beside all certainty.
We
turn as apron-ed satellites
in matinee of gentle speak,
our mundane, London-Saturday
the soundscape to your stasis.
Surrendered
to this bastion of valiant
machinery. Your pillars
in this paradise of waiting.
St Thomas's ICU April - there was still hope and belief.
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