A sudden grey sky
turns noon to dusk.
Rain plunges down,
people swarm
to reach the cover
of brightly painted
striped roofs.
Murmurs and groans
smother the air.
Squawks and wails
from unhappy tots
pierce through the
fast, heavy pitter-patter
as water pounds
the metallic canopies.
Herded through a maze
of darkened alleys,
jackets rub
elbows and shoulders.
Toes kick heels.
Squish, push,
bump and poke.
Feet shuffle,
side-swiped
by rolling wheels.
Wet handbags
smack into chests.
Stray droplets,
from soaked hair
and saturated hoods,
splash faces.
Aromas of
chilled brine
pungent copper
sweet malt
dewy-botanical
saccharine citrus
bitter sulfur
salt and vinegar,
swirl and waft out
behind a sea of backs.
Steam rises
as kettles boil,
bacon sizzles,
sausages spit.
Scarves and baskets
hang on hooks
up high,
a wicker coffin?
Could it be?
Search for a pocket
of space to breathe.
© Nichola Lovell
No comments:
Post a Comment