Walk to Work (Poem)

The skies broke while we slept,

And covered streets a blackened sheen;

The wind is pushing silent walls

Of rain that soaks my shoes and jeans.

The parents hold their children’s hands

With hoods up and heads down;

They force their way into school

With sopping, frowning, wisened brows.

I carry on, despite it all,

With my umbrella tightened cold

Against the mundane chill of wind;

The metal arms, that shield me, bend.


by Harry Husbands