- makeswordswork
Down the Pentonville Road
Updated: Jun 11, 2021

Cranes turn sad, slow circles
and stunted balcony plants
lift shaking leaves in prayer
to a slate sky that isn't listening.
The Roches sing in my ears
as they go down to Hammond
and I go down this road
where three teenagers stand
with sticks torn from trees:
uncertain warriors wild-eyed as cats
scared of what they could do
to the two snapbacked boys
who peer fearful round a corner,
then run like deer.
White-bearded Moses on a mountain
bike parts traffic like waves
two snouty lurchers panting
free and faithful in his wake.
I pass a bus shelter
where schoolkids fall joyous
into giggling group hugs.
I smile too, and my heart hurts
at the stupid beauty of this world
but I fear they will
grow up round corners,
hiding from the wild-eyed.
Near Kings Cross
blood sugar crashes:
I walk a spongy stagger
across sagging trampoline.
I want to stretch out my arms,
a high wire walker wavering
along slack grey lines
that lead to train, and home.
When I wait to cross the road
the world tilts all to one side
and I hold cold railings tight
for fear I might
fall off.
Writing by IAIN ROWAN
Artwork by MAGGIE DRURY