Sleepless in Battersea

A tealight flickers
in a frosted glass
emblazoned with the word
ENERGY.
Outside it is 4 a.m.,
deep night –
even the trains
are asleep.
From the other side of the world
my sister texts
happy birthday jane austen.
On the bookcase behind me
her novels wait to be read,
re-read.

a dark night sky with a tower block in the distance and the tops of bare trees in the foreground

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