ATOP NELSON’S COLUMN

Windy, cold and grey is the sky. The clouds amass on the horizon,

laden with rain, while a bitter wind drives them towards me.

I have never been so scared here above the earth; I don’t know how I got here,

I only want to get down.

Smoke blackened stone is cold and so alien to my touch, while the ground is far below.

I see people staring at me and shouting, but I can’t hear them as the wind is so strong.

I could jump but then I’d be killed so here I stay, stuck atop Nelson’s column so frightened and alone.