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inside the drive
David Brown
Glass with cracks and cataracts
Give the light a harder task
Defused gloom in tomb-cold empty rooms
Nothing moves along the pipes
That once carried heat and life
Humming plumbing’s played its final tune
The gate swings
helpless in the wind
With a dry and mournful cry
Final gasp of a time that’s past, raging at the fading
light
Paint clings on to frames decayed
As brittle as a dried bouquet
Just one touch and it will turn to dust
Choking vines of ivy climb
Sucking blood from stone and lime
The gutter’s bust, the wound is leaking rust
Once the
grandest in the street
Standing tall with pride
Now stooped and crumbling with the weight of memories inside
The
dull grey slate ridge dips and sags
Like the backbone of a nag
Dark birds come and go like frightened thoughts
The skeletons of T.V. masts
Gibbet round the chimneystacks
Episodes of shows we’ve seen before
One dark night some
Nazi planes
Took the ones on either side
Secret histories are whispering from the shadows where
they hide
Once a glowing monolith
A beacon in the mist
Directions given night and day
Now the path is overgrown
There’s nobody at home
Somewhere, someone has lost their way
Dawn breaks on the cityscape
With a little bit more sky
Gods wrecking ball, some homeless thoughts
And a skip inside the drive |