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I envy you, Bill Wordsworth, there upon
Westminster Bridge: majestic spires and domes
dozing in the shimmering sheets of dawn,
that moment just before full waking comes.
There you felt the river current course:
the steady pulse, life blood of London heart,
beneath the bracelet bridge the somnolent force
of brown arm pendent on the morning's start.

Here is another daybreak; here the sky
acidifies, bleeds blue, leaves yellow stain.
The plaqued arteries' flow constricted by
concentric tightening loops of steel and pain.
Scab crust of city, poison under skin,
on arms that flex to squeeze the living in.

      — Kathleen B. Henderson

Hear Kathleen B. Henderson read 'Proem: A Sonnet'