It was a wonder,

It was a wonder,

He was in no doubt,

The slag heaps were long gone

The landscape redrawn

Gulls sat atop a winding wheel

Set in stone

Marking the grave of the old mine

Where many men lay

Never to return.

Sparrows were feasting on scraps left by alfresco diners

Shoppers eating brunch

Or having a gourmet lunch

Before going home

The mall had an architectural canopy of spinnakers

To mirror its proximity to the sea

A retail park in place of the back shaft.

Gone were the overhead cables

The buckets full of slack and dust

That built mounds

As tall as mountains

Some of the old homes still stood

Once built to house working families

Repurposed as flatlets for singletons

And couples making a first, tentative step

Onto the property ladder.

He had to move on

A bunch of locals looked menacing

Recognising him as someone they once knew

His shrug “It is all so different now”

Met with a scowl of contempt

“Why shouldn’t it be? Aren’t we allowed?

Or should wor still be wearin’ hobnails,

Carry’un Davey lamps

Singin’ a shanty aboot a little fishy

On a little dishy

When the boat comes in?”

He backed away, wishing he could remember

Who they were

But he had left that memory far behind

And couldn’t find it anywhere.

‘No of course not. It is just so different

To the memories, I have, of growing up here.”

“Aye but yer left…so yer knows nowt about it

Yer soft shite,

So piss-off back doon south wi’yer fancy southern

Softy pals and leave wer alone.’

He didn’t need another invitation to dance

And hurried back to the rental

In the car park

Where once, on stone and grass,

He had played football

With his mates in a playoff

Between the Wembley boys

And the Crescent Street kids,

He had scored a hattrick,

Maybe they remembered…