something to build on
the copper works
the old folks told of them
as if they had been there
but had not
the veins in their hands
as blue as the soot walls
where the men had certainly been
and clog-hobbled the cobbled roads
between the buildings in ruin now
walls only with sky roofs
that pushed us in
brick doors and windows
of bricks that could be levered out
to within an inch of catastrophe
our childhood was within that inch
bricks conveyed by laughing hands
with a cunning plan
to build an organised tower
atop of the old quay wall
higher that daring did
sweat contemplation long held
and staid the hand’s itch
to topple the river’s flowing calm
time’s up decided a shared look
and a push is all it took
S P L A S H
like you have never seen
in guilt’s quick look around
until smirk ruled the moment
an instant’s turning decided
footfall to another wall
more bricks quick
for dereliction entered our pantheon
and a dereliction of duty it would have been
to have grown up without having stirred
the few ghosts from which our naughtiness
no doubt raised a dusty smirk
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