deepundergroundpoetry.com

Fuel Poverty

 
Clear skies wake us  
the boldness of night  
probing for weakness  
as frost scuttles south  
claiming empires  
of fingers and toes  
 
We drink tea  
Luke warmed  
over a candle  
 
How many in the box?  
 
And wonder if bankers  
will someday  
sleep in their clothes
Written by Abracadabra
Published | Edited 27th Mar 2016
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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