Preview (Poetry)

There’s this town I don’t know
made of colourless stone
with long streets stretching bare
where I wander alone

There is no one about —
not a soul — not a sound
and my footsteps are mute
on the grey dusty ground

There’s no sign anywhere
not a clue to its name
it’s a strange kind of place
I don’t know why I came

The dull sky’s like a lid
on a box of stale air
the breeze holds its breath
while blank windows just stare

Gloomy silence suggests
I’m the only one left
there’s a shadow hangs low
and a faint reek of death ...