Flannery Road


Go down to Flannery Road and wait
For the ice van as the padded box
Chills the summer’s partakings.

Strawberries stopped in their tracks by
The the lower centigrades distill
The actual twist of circumstance.

Where the ice van announces
The interval allowed for free trade,
There is made the space for dreams.

In square slabs of earthly grey,
The pavement draws the flow
Of uncles and aunts long forgotten.

Those who stand there are new
To this life of wheels and deals,
Push buttons and higher heels. 

The cold box is closing
With a dull thud of present passing
Posing an imminent demand.

A person at six sees things that way
And occupies corners and edges
Watching out for the thieves.

Fortresses line Flannery Road
As slings and arrows fly across
Making shadows on the sleeping mind.

Bevagna, 8 May 2012