Cracks in the Concrete
We searched for it
through the tarmac in every rain-bruised sky
in dark Pennine shadows where great mills
spewed out ringlets of ghost-grey fog
we learnt to see Yorkshire mist in charcoal technicolour
Along the canal with its ribbon of rust we frisked
the dirty water for dazzling orange carp
heaved shopping trolleys from sludge traps
sailed two wheels high in the air thick with damp wool
In the wasteland breath-hot kissed fog grass
danced with nettles lounged beach-like
on barren patches of our summer home
shared with mongrels fleas and ants
down cobbled snickets
seeped in spilled ale and yesterday’s blood
we lobbed dog-chewed tennis balls
bin-sticky off chipped kerbs
As kids we knew the spaces between the stones
found beauty in those cracks
where weeds burst through
Gary Akroyde is from from Sowerby Bridge and currently working as an English teacher. He have been published in Dreamcatcher, Black Nore Review, Intenational Times and will be published in three Yaffle Press anthologies this year.