September in th…

September in the City

Approaching Clapham Junction,

The train slows.

Across the electric divide, 

clouded windows of city grime,

sky-scraper concrete and

bright neon signs.

‘Mind the gap’.

The recording repeats.

Carriages empty their crowded seats,

cases on wheels, 

rucksacks on broad backs,

travellers in smart suits with

Iphones and Ipads.

Sweat-shirts and joggers 

plugged into Ipods,

take-away coffees,

turnstile spins.

The daily routine

leads them like radar,

schedules and time tables

change like the weather.

Four flights down

to underground gloom

on moving stairs

to a bullet fast tube.

Top speed to Victoria, 

a short hop from Green Park,

and flowers in buckets,

the scent lost in traffic.

News stands with post-cards, 

students with maps, 

tourists with cameras, 

Union Jack flags.

‘The end is nigh.’ 

Said the man on a soap-box.

‘Take time to repent, 

save your life, not your time’.

But no-one is listening, 

pavements are streaming,

in the heat of September,

commuters are rushing 

to lunch-hour through traffic,

past police on patrol.

I’m walking to meet you, 

backwards through time.

We greet with a hug,

spend time catching up,

then study the map

as we walk to Belgravia,

an oasis of calm in tropical heat.

Dodging buses and taxis,

we arrive at our past.

Was it here? Was it there? 

We are in the right square,

but memories are lost

in the changes we meet.

We head for the pub, 

a bijou retreat, 

smile for the camera

to capture the mood, 

with promises to keep,

and friendship renewed.


About maskednative

There is a gazebo at the end of the garden. It overlooks the estuary. When the tide is in, sea water pools around seaweed covered rocks. The sound is peaceful, meditative. I drink an early morning coffee, listen to the birds singing morning songs, watch a spider spin his fragile life between timber beams above my head. Even in the harshest of winters, the rise and fall of tides, sun-light on water, movement of sky, cloud, moon and stars, allows an awareness of nature behind the mask of perceived reality. I offer my words and pictures in celebration and gratitude to God, for allowing me a glimpse behind the mask. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Bio: Teri Flynn was born in Wales of Welsh and Irish Parents. Educated in England, she moved to Co.Waterford, Ireland in 1997 where her Poetry has since appeared in “The Turning Tide” – an anthology of new writing from Co.Waterford. “Southward” The Journal of the Munster Literature Centre and “Imagine” The Tallow Writers Group quarterly review. Her poetry appears in “Sticky Orchard”, a group effort with Alan Garvey, Jim O’Donnell and Anthony O’Neill and grant assisted by Waterford County Council’s Arts Grant Scheme. “Listening To The Grass Grow” with Jim O’Donnell and Anthony O’Neill was published by Edward Power at Rectory press and most recently, in ‘Murmurings’, Remembering Anthony O’Neil, with Jim O’Donnell and Alan Garvey. Her poem Queen Of The Sea was included in the Chesapeake Exhibition at RUH, Bath, 2011. Figurehead Carver, Andy Peters. Photographic display of Ship’s Figurehead Carvings by Richard Sibley – A themed display of her oil paintings and poems entitled Cynefin, were on display in Waterford during The Imagine Festival in 2017. Cynefin-pronounced kuh-nev-in is a Welsh word meaning habitat or place. A place where a being feels it ought to live, where nature around you feels right and welcoming.
This entry was posted in Life, Love and the Universe. Bookmark the permalink.

5 Responses to September in th…

  1. richardsibley says:

    I like the mood, it reminds me of the city.


  2. JAMES FLYNN says:



  3. DYLAN FLYNN says:



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