360 º

I won't take a camera I thought,

it'll just be in the way and

I don't want to carry a heavy bag.

So what did I decide to do on the spur of the moment

on this sunniest and clearest of Spring days?

I went up the Shard.

Probably the best blogortunity in London.

Well I looked with my eyes and not a lens

and it was just as you'd hope

a view from the 72nd level would be,

800 giddy feet in the air.

Little white trains slithered in and out of stations;

slipped past each other across bridges, 

curled away and converged with immaculate timing.

Boats large and small chugged up and down the river.

A police launch nosed importantly between the slower vessels.

Big Ben was tiny.

So was St. Paul's. 

The Thames takes a deeply sinuous route into the far distance

glinting upstream in the low sun,

broadening downstream towards Greenwich and the open sea.

But most beautiful of all was to see all around 
the rim of hills that hold London 
in their hazy and distant embrace.

The only jarring note was the quite unnecessary New Age muzak,

intended I suppose to heighten your wonderment.

At that height, with a slight breeze on my face,

blissfully removed from 

the blare of mobile phones and traffic,

it was silence I craved.

That would have made the Shard sublime.