Snap Shot
Canals
dark, damp,
neglected, deserted.
Cigarette butts and broken glass
litter the sidewalks.
Autumn leaves float
on black
adding a sense of decay
to these daylight hours.
Other occupants of the city
have also faded,
perhaps into buildings
which remain from the past,
cathedral, town hall, library.
Or perhaps some have been lifted
into new, tall, glass fronted structures,
many still under construction.
Cranes show people looking down,
no-one seems to be looking up.
The pinnacle of modernity,
a patch of false grass.
The streets are almost empty,
no-one is singing.
Silence except for cars close by.
Conversations are indoors
not between passers by.
In blended multiculturalism
the few pursue their own needs.
Wandering eyes of tourists are absent.
Flat, still air.
There is little colour.
Someone forgot to paint it in
and the day is too dull to know if
sunlight will be reflected from glass,
adding light.
I find no thread in this historical creation,
this city of stations,
but I am just travelling through.
Then, a memorial of flowers, messages.
“Stronger Together”
suggests interconnectedness
I have not seen.
I am heartened and think, maybe,
come evening,
the city will spring into life.
I leave hopeful,
until disused railway carriages,
tame, subdued landscapes,
which need a conductor
to orchestrate growth,
make me yearn for the sea,
to stand on the shore
and watch cosmic breath.
