two eras in one land

Austen’s Regency holds its posture,

rooms arranged for watching

and being watched.

Thompson’s Victorian

weight moves differently,
a street‑side shuffle,

a coat pulled close.

Drawing rooms

with their measured warmth,
city corners with their blunt weather.

One world practises its courtesies,
the other keeps its questions

under a lamp.

Social manoeuvres,

small hesitations,
the quiet work

of choosing one’s place.

Then the harder wanderings—
a figure walking until the hour thins.

Two eras set beside each other,
not braided, just sharing

the same long hallway.

Each with its own kind of light,
each showing

what a person carries home.

.