A darkening sky
ushers out the day
weary workers
homeward wend their way
Stirring, the animal moves
slowly, joints aching
it peers out
drunk-like awakening
Dressed up grand
with no-where to go
a motley mane-coat
sadly all show
Cardboard caves
at Charing Cross
the human debris
of profit and loss
A huddled mass
contorted shapes
feeble eyes
half-drawn drapes
Waiting
willing or not
languid
waiting for what?
