Denis Ahern
London Dawn, 17.2.03


First light over Beckton,
Dawn over the docks.
Birdsong among cranes and pylons.
Voices from radio clocks.
Cleaners and all-night traders
Make squares of light
On the blank-faced blocks –
Chequers at a height.
Traffic jamming already
Under the pale morning moon.
The great city stirs,
London thinks it’s a spoon.