filtered light

I work all day, and get half-drunk at night.

Waking at four to soundless dark, I stare.

In time the curtain-edges will grow light.

Till then I see what's really always there:

Unresting death, a whole day nearer now,

Making all thought impossible but how

And where and when I shall myself die.

 

"Aubade" by Philip Larkin

 

 

(Olympus XA, 35mm film, Kodak Gold 400.)

Done