THE SAME SPACE

by David Subacchi

Half a century within the same space
Inside medieval town walls
Long since demolished
Within sight of castle
And parish church
The sound of town clock bell

Pigs were once driven
Along this street to market
A chapel, undertaker
And print works
Have gradually given way
To residential units

A cobblers and gun shop
Are also no more
The rear yard of a hotel
Is a car park for shop workers
And those who visit the bookmaker
Cars only pass one way

Half a century within the same space
Raised voices at night
From emptying taverns
Wind blowing bottles
Along pavements and gutters
Sighing between the chimneys.