Dotted Green Lines
One foot in front of other Laces tied, as taught by mother, Avoiding cracks and dodging brother I learned to walk in yesteryear. Along the paves and paths and tracks Cobbled stones or fresh tarmac Never I thought that I’d turn back To wishful steps of yesteryear.
Though the hardware still remains, And there’s no damage ‘tween feet and brain, I seem to suffer placebo strain When I come to stroll like yesteryear. With every byway cordoned off Every road sign ‘blazened “STOP” Breath and song for ash I’ll swap. I’ll never walk like yesteryear.
No hand to hold, or stroller pushed Clutching bags, deflowering bush Instead now its demons shushed, As I long to stride in yesteryear. Where bells would ring and signal ends For eating crisps and pushing friends. The chatter now, inside it rends I’m not the same as yesteryear.
Not a thought now of “I can’t wait To don the shoes and perambulate To every meeting with every mate” It is no longer yesteryear. Now put them in and drown him out In podcasts I can bury shouts But eventually the songs run out And I’m far away from yesteryear.
I let them hang around my throat, They’ve drained the water from the moat My headphone wire now garrotte Betwixt the ‘knucks of yesteryear. A vision comes of primary school The cobble out back in shade and cool The final thoughts of a wistful fool Who lived and died in yesteryear.