'Permitted, but risky is a bus ride. I take my familiar 172.' Photo: by Ant Rozetsky on Unsplash.
What lies ahead
Poem by Anne M Jones
Mashed into the last summer sunshine
cold wind, a paper-cut barb
Hints at winter ahead.
Though told that warmth would banish this virus
it hovers still, a vulture
that threatens our fresh horizons
Corralls us back into our cups
Of joys, miseries and memories.