My mother had recently remarked

That despite her desires

I had ended up being a townie

I reflected on this

As I left the town of my birth

With the slightest hint of regret

The train jangling along

The sun shining on all it looked upon

a mighty searchlight

Highlighting every last detail

Across the backs of high terraced houses

That seem to shiver

Steeped on three storeys

All front and trousers

Their rears exposed

As dirty shabby cold and damp render

Some improved with extensions

And first floor sun terraced table and chairs

Others showing the forgotten aftermath

Of winter still at war with themselves

 

I look back across the town

Now knighted a city

Once the blighted fright

Of bawdy seaside humour

Ice cream Sundays

Knotted handkerchiefs

Rolled up trousers along the front

Kiss me quick hats

Two piers

All frothy candy floss and lights

 

Now the arty home of individual

Backstreet shops

With bars, coffee tea

And excuse me please but is that gluten free

Vegan friendly and nutty cobs

Amongst the occasional

Eggs beans bacon sausage and chips

 

Now only one pier

And a skeleton

Reminders of a different age

Of tinsel among the drab

But it’s still my town

A place I love to come and visit

Never losing its appeal

The town I call home

This city of my birth