Smiles by Design
The brickwork drab and crumbling.
Leaves gust along the street
settling on the beer hatch.
The pub name is spelt wrong.
A smile tugs the corner of my mouth.
At the Pitcher and Piano the glass makes mirrors,
memories of music and laughter spill out.
There’s a display of bottles by the door.
They make a toothy smile.
A streetlamp dressed in austere Queen Victoria black:
passersby ignore its beauty.
The daylight moon peers through decorative ironwork.
A smile tugs the corner of my mouth.
The Church of Wales in the middle of the city
quite a way from the border.
On the roof, the cross has one arm missing.
A smile leaves the corner of my mouth.
Smiles by design at the dentist.
* Edwin Stockdale lives in Chester and has been published in Poetry Scotland, Poetry Monthly, Fire and Poetry Cornwall. He was shortlisted for the Flintshire Prize in 2008 and 2009.
