On a morning
Where thoughts echo from the ground
Your feet hurt and pound
Train tracks drown you out
Where rain slashes and sounds
Earth cracks and spaces out
Brickworks of red stand up like sentinel casks
Stale coffee in cold Sunday thermos flasks
Saturday Football grounds shout loud and about
Away days with pints in cups and flags on masts
A loving embrace of passed on clothes
Where charity shopping is the place to go
Rivers that ooze and burst their banks
Take over life’s hidden romance
By night the stillness cools
Parkas and bikes crawl
Sorrows are drowned as the landlord pulls
And someone calls for “another”
by Sam Fawcett
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Parisian Poetry 