Signs

 

 

Brighton Steps Collage-1

 

Walk. Don’t walk

Street furniture

The architecture of survival

I am surrounded

Guided even, if I care to look

But what is this?

A shifting arcade?

I travel in the line of beauty

Unaware that each stride

May or may not make sense

For my influence is limited

I am simply here

No podium place

No winners’ medal

Just ephemeral distance

A few aches and wrinkles

Survivors’ lines

Where passing traffic

Abraded me

Friction. That is life

And when the sign next lights

With a kind of throbbing urgency

I might even smile

Not yet safe. Not yet spent

On a watching brief

For eyes

Alert to clues

 

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