Circling the water
one final evening
I catch sight of my reflection
see those lines forming
writ across my brow
so I roll my head in ink
kiss the page…

Soon, we’ll be quietly leaving
no longer anchored in Zone Two
swaddled by the Thames
for an unknown pause we’re going now
The shapeless mess of time approaches
with me, desperately
clawing at relief lines
to understand what gradient
we may yet ascend…

To grasp the coming change
when we both close our eyes
and, to the Serpentine
reverently, exhale our goodbyes…

Fitzrovia's in floods tonight
Camden quietly cowers
Farringdon feigns its faith in us
and Soho is so low, so low tonight

What will the greasy cafes of Shepherds Bush do
when they’re not serving me each Saturday
How will Liberty continue trading
without your weekly subsidies
Who will love Hammersmith Bridge unconditionally
on an epic evening bike ride
Who is left to raise a can on summer evenings
watching the sun set from a Southbank bench
Will there be replacement wide eyes waiting
to look up in wonder at the roof of St Pancras
Could anyone feel as excited to get lost wandering 
off some filthy Waterloo backstreet
And the cable car… and the floating bar…
all our hours clocked up in the ancient pubs of Central
who will live to drink in them
once we’ve gone

Shoreditch sorrowfully surrenders
Peckham peacefully ponders
Southwark screams across Sunday sands
and Soho is so low, so low tonight

The last tube home from Marble Arch
rushing through the quickening night
but before we turn to go
solemnly, we both close our eyes
and to the Serpentine
whisper our goodbyes

‘Goodbye, goodbye’
these are my goodbyes…

(July 2016)