looking down at the twisted streets of slate

that ride the open sky

where doors are closed in privacy

avoiding nature's bracing eye

in the yorkshire terrier's spiritual home,

where corner shops survive:

 

a tiny figure is seen to wind

with solemn step descends to find

a well trod way since but a boy.

 

Mr Braithwaite as he is known

insisting on the formal tone

once headmaster at a local school

obeys a ritual, rain or shine

to buy his paper from Mr.Khan

 

and marvel at the profileration

of Khans at various destinations.

He isn't sure, once more at his door

 

about the shrinking world,

but blesses the streets he knows of old

just in case a future he fears

in dreams may soon unfold.