| Change of View As I turned to leave, I heard behind my back the thuds of my town being dismantled. The first to be pulled down, as I later heard, Ed’s corner store (“We’re open day and night”), soon after that the Empire cinema (double features, four cartoons), then McCarthy’s butcher’s shop. Interminable grindings, thumps and clanks disturbed those left behind as houses, schools, our village hall were loaded on lorries, and driven down highways towards random locations. When I came back, our old Cathedral-of-the-glowing-wood had been painted white and trundled off to an open field, stood beside a four-lane motorway. Open to the elderly public most Saturday afternoons. It has changed its views somewhat, now looks uneasy like a displaced aunt who has left behind her knitting, but is trying hard to make the best of things. Diana Brodie |
If you have any comments on this poem, Diana Brodie would be
pleased to hear from you.