Your letter

Arrived yesterday

Pocketed in sunlight

In years past

You spoke of colours

And bright steel bullet trains

You rang with

Stories of progress

Steel words flew from your mouth

But not now.

Yesterday I read

Grey words picked carefully

Taken from

A corporate vault

Shown to pacify minds.

I used to

Think in bright colours

You effortlessly spun

I don’t know

Which one of us has

Changed more completely

Perhaps it’s

The world that has changed

Into grey-brown clear-cuts

Men who see

Nothing but steel lines

A stately procession

Towards death.

Arriving today

Wrapped up in sunlight.