Barry Tebb Poems

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Leeds this silent solemn Sunday

Tempest Road is clear of all

But wistful birds, parked cars

And vagrant trees.

The surgery and pharmacy are shuttered tight

"Get your medication straight into your bag",

The friendly GP gravely warned, "The junks

Lay in wait to grab and run from those no longer young

The building site’s scaffolding of bone

Masks pristine piles of bricks where

May winds mourn and moan among

The gaping frames beneath a bannered

Street-wide invitation to a "Housing Consultation Initiative"

Flapping desultory and unread

Where last year ‘Beeston in Bloom’ was up instead.

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