Landing
It’s in the brittle light that forces your eyes
to crack, squint for cover, that you know
the day’s debate about a woman eating
herself to death, will not be resolved;
when the crease of the door next to yours,
will not result in half-conceited attempts
at conversation by the water cooler, wage-slave
camaraderie or company conspiracy.
There is nothing in this isolation that cannot be
found in the shallow breath of your own contempt,
or the aching view of the sepia cityscape.
As the streetlights wink on, trading energy
with each fluorescent office bulb, the autumn
unfolds itself in the brush of leaves
on the rooftop; as you climb, you know
there will be something beautiful
in landing awkwardly.
*Sonia Hendy-Isaac has an MA in Creative & Critical Writing. Her poetry has been anthologised and widely published in journals; her most recent work can be found in Snakeskin, Equinox & Neon.