A.M. P.M.
Step out into the day’s whiteness
And breathe the bad air.
The early chill reminds you you’re here.
The sky is birdless,
And planes chew through the sinewy clouds.
The taste of coffee is dark
In your mouth. The hot black shock
Tore open the blinds
And washed away the friendly shadows
That flickered all night through your brain.
But you are to be expected soon.
There’s someone who knows
The things that you must do.
Daylight holds in the halls.
Here’s your plastic name-card which tells
The others you’re you.
The season slips away outside,
So when it’s time to go,
You notice the evening has started to grow.
A cold breeze kicks the leaves aside.
Will Snelling is a writer and musician from Hastings. His work has appeared in New Critique, and on the Young Poets Network. He lives in London.