Quick
Moon is full,
Clouds are few,
Stars are bright.
It’s so cold,
Here, all alone,
Waiting, waiting, waiting.
When
Will
This
Shift
End?
Clouds are few,
Stars are bright.
It’s so cold,
Here, all alone,
Waiting, waiting, waiting.
When
Will
This
Shift
End?
2 comments:
Are you reflecting/writing at work? Or is the shift a different sort of stint?
That one was a work one, though, more a frustrated waiting, the last trailer we were expecting was half an hour late, which isn't long, and yet, it is, 4am is quiet, cold and somehow lifeless, too late for the last few cars to be passing, and too early for the early risers...alas, I wasn't actually alone, but then again,I always am, even in a crowd.
oh dear, that sounds bleak...
:)
another perch on the back of the forklift moment...seems to be my frequent rest spot...
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