Poem Hunter
007. An Evening In Old London
JK ( / Crawley)

007. An Evening In Old London

Tall chimneys thrust up brick red necks
their smoke black heads unblinking on the scene
for the chimneys have no eyes
no nose to smell out the waste

A small boy crosses a dirty street
his blackened face
mixed with tears and sweat
make a pattern of his features
a sign of over work
a sign of torture

Along the street a river winds its way
like a great sluggish dirty snake
its low banks brown with mud
like a rugby player after a match

The boy finds a comforting shelter
a small shack with a blanket
the patterns faded with much use
but it is comfort for the boy
as tired he falls asleep
his eyes closed his breathing quiet

Not much moves in the streets
as the red brick sentinels
blind and deaf watch on
unmoving as the night draws on

User Rating: 4,0 / 5 ( 1 votes ) 6

Comments (6)

Very descriptive you made it come alive. Thank you.
Well, i have never been to London, moreover the old one, but this here has made me dream...of London at the time of Sherlock Holmes. Great!
someone from a dickens' story perhaps? nice scene (nice in a poetic way anyway) you have painted here! i'll send a few suggestions in a message, as i can't remember if you would prefer them in a comment or a message. thanks for sharing. bri :)
Sad but evocative. Enjoyed your descriptions of the chimneys and snake river. An excellent poem to come from the mind of a boy. Glad it got into the school mag.
Good one! :) :) Enjoyed it
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