In fading light our tired heart grieves
Sharp gusts of wind stir more bronze leaves;
It’s hard at times to brave the cold
November dawns - the year grows old!
More lofty beeches bend and sway
As through the wind some forge their way
Through darkened streets as still they must;
For early birds, it’s rush – rush - rush!
But, thinking hard, I realise now
Fewer hands wield office plough
Home working since the COVID scare
Means offices have desks to spare!
Who sees long queues at sandwich shops?
The buzz once heard at lunchtime stops
Life as-we-knew-it - on the wane
Gentler journeys on the train …
Today more tend to buy on line;
Though shops their price tags slash - big time
But customers don’t queue at tills
Discouraged by huge heating bills!
(c) Poet in the woods 2022
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