The Last Fiver

Emptying pockets rattle like
chains that long to be broken.

Forgotten corners of the cupboard
yield their desperate bounty,

freed from their bare darkness
only to meet another’s.

Blanket wraps hood that wraps
the shivering in front of the oven.

A falling sun abandons light
to disappear into cracks in the wall,

night creeping in with the cold,
trapped in unrelenting hours.

Emptying pockets rattle like
chains that long to be broken.

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