Clockwork City on National Poetry Day!

The whole complex, road-veined, hill-strewn window-lined network like

a coiled watch spring tight with excitement.

Lights click on and off in binary code: asleep or awake.

Shadowed silhouettes glide behind blinds and curtains, travelling the grooves

the cogs the movements of their lives. Teeming activity.

At night, an alarming illumination.

As the city ticks down.

Ticks over.

Ticks.

Bath.

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