This City

THIS CITY -

which was once my other home
which gave me freedom
          a centre to wander from
                      explore from
which filled my life with
     friends
     memories of
          the hustling and bustling
          of a city
          teeming with culture
          symphonies, poetry, the theatre,
          a shilling to stand in the gallery
          for Mozart's Magic Flute,
          the dirty little backyard bars
          full of good cheap beer and mutton pies,
          the greenery of the parks
          with duck-filled ponds
          and bread-stealing pigeons,
          art-packed galleries,
          shops for paupers and millionaires,
          statues in the square,
          the Sunday market sprawling over the streets
          thronged with sharks and bargain-hunters,
          the riverside - its dockland dreariness uninviting
                          its bridges graceful and longing,
          life oozing from every part
          from the near-city-centre slums
          to the mansions of outer suburbia

is dead for me now
          returning for a day
          after an absence of years
          Its one-way systems
          and network
          of newly-built ringroads
          make my motoring a hell

And gone are the friends I shared it with

The surface glitter is still here
but the life has gone
as I make my way
through this now alien city

I am glad I cam back
I need return no more

© GERALD ENGLAND

Composed: Ackworth, 20th September 1970

Publications

1972 Headland (UK)
1992 Xenophilia (USA)
1998 LIMBO TIME (Hyde, New Hope International)