Sunday, 14 February 2016

Pale coins at the bottom of a well ...



It's a bit fresh my dad said - 

We were walking down West Street towards Staunton Road -

A cold wind blew through the branches of leafless trees - 

I've been in colder places than this my dad said - 

We walked past Watermeadows Court - 

Behind sash windows, TVs glimmered in monochrome bedsits - 

Worshippers listened to time worn words in the Catholic Church - 

I knew Father Tom my dad had said - he liked a glass - 

My mum and dad crossed Boundary Road in convoy with their sholleys - 

There was The Prince of Wales, at the corner of Staunton Road and West Street - 

Its doors were still closed - no vaping bravos stood outside - 

Upon the walls of the lounge bar there used to hang framed photographs of battleships - 

Ships companies were gathered beneath the weight of colossal guns - 

If you looked closely, you could see each young face, pale coins at the bottom of a well - 


11.10
Sunday 14 February 2016

West Street
Havant



No comments:

Post a Comment