In regulation daytime armour
cracking with coarse whispers
and yesterdays broken promise,
the young girl pushes
her vape shadowed baby carrier
past steamed up shop windows.
Her world is the High Street
where each day
a bitter grey tide
shambles downhill
towards abandoned blue churches
and disappearing city light.
And it is here
her plastic shoes slap
into one off needles
that litter fishless gutters
and where even on dry days
the pavement is damp.
High Street
Steve Coel
Walking Notes
Steve Coel
An 11.59 Publication
