Then there were

Then there were

Then there were the cooling towers,

wooden waisted, corseted to the sky-

blue in their steamy contusions. 

They are still there, next to the 

unused railway arches that lead 

to the unused cooling ponds.

The works the stuff of long memories 

for the kids who dared their parent’s 

admonishment that where the ghosts be 

dammed and dangerous, tread you not!

There, where the grass snakes find

entrapment after Lucifer’s fall into

the concrete needled hall of 

water weed and frazzled frogs. 

Yes, we ran the nerves of dusk 

and the clattering corrugated sheets 

of youthful devil may care, running 

faster and, and, faster   until 

the breath of bravado stopped

us short of losing face and 

the wild laughs returned home 

to roost on heaving shoulders.

How the reeds breathed the wild wind on the 

wings on heels below dirty knees dried with the

blood of snivelled tear smears and

the wince of valour that is the badge of boys

on the run every which way they dare.

This is the grime under my fingernails, even

as my second childhood runs down those 

self same shivers on the road to my bed,

and the sleep of righteous indignation at a

curse broken short by the call to alms.