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.