London Fog - 0023
Fog hangs heavy in London air,
brokers rest but for a prayer;
eyes aghast, souls in despair,
seeking business everywhere.
Bargains booked throughout the day
decline in number, then don't pay.
All about them makes them say:
'No more at market will we play! '
(12 December 1974)
poem by Jonathan Robin
Added by Poetry Lover
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