Thursday, September 22, 2016

James Walton #20 Edinburgh Gardens Visitation, Alfred Crescent



Edinburgh Gardens Visitation, Alfred Crescent

I like to park my car there, outside of the grey house
the one with the tower rising higher than the elms,
comfortable in feigned ownership I saunter across the parkway.

Settling on a council bench, looking back all these years
I’ve wondered who lives there the lights so seldom on,
no sound ever announces it’s us the lucky ones.

A northern suburbs poltergeist, that won’t farewell
uninvited on the first floor veranda I sip my coffee,
Victorian in my slippers a pipe pretends to smoke.

Listening to the real Lions roar, cork balls turn to rubber
as the bands depart the rotundas displaced by pawing love,
the trams running on the city side brush along the edges.
.
In the warm proletarian evening, students’ frisbees gambol
crashing the laid out blanket dinners paroled dogs shake their jaunt,
families kindle in the apprehended moments.

It’s time to go, brush down the country bumkyniness
cajole the tired old hack into one more,
jousting tilt at the wavering windmill up those stairs.










No comments:

Post a Comment

Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.