Hamburg II
Cold cold air, thoughts of ice
A tension still thick
With anger at those who are
Not welcome in their markets.
The snow has fallen
It's a white city, a white Christmas
Efficient robots- have you
Abandoned compassion?
An undercurrent of judgment, confrontation
That no one wants to talk about
Forgetting those times before,
Living in a frozen snow globe.
YOU ARE READING
Petrichor
PoetryWe grow old eventually {here are the waking thoughts that consume me}
