zulikas

big up my g

November Story
The evening had caught cold;
Its eyes were blurred.
It had a dripping nose
And its tongue was furred.
I sat in a warm bar
After the day’s work:
November snuffled outside,
Greasing the sidewalk.
But soon I had to go
Out into the night
Where shadows prowled the alleys,
Hiding from the light.
But light shone at the corner
On the pavement where
A man had fallen over
Or been knocked down there.
His legs on the slimed concrete
Were splayed out wide;
He had been propped against a lamp-post:
His head lolled to one side.
A victim of crime or accident,
An image of fear,
He remained quite motionless
As I drew near.
Then a thin voice startled silence
From a doorway close by
Where an urchin hid from the wind
“Spare a penny for the guy!”
I gave the boy some money
And hastened on.
A voice called, ‘Thank you guv’nor!’
And the words upon
The wincing air seemed strange –
So hoarse and deep –
As if the guy had spoken
In his restless sleep.
VERNON SCANNELL

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