Plimsolls on Cobblestones

Nothing is quite the catalyst
Than the moment the town harmonises,
Linked arms, balled fists,
The lights dim,
And the men stand proud
And the women stand strong
And the children race the streets
Where they belong
Roaring sea shanties hard and long
Together.
Ballooned lungs, crowds tight,
Stirring the fog that creeps
Into the dark, enveloping night.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s