The Cathedral's Shadow (Original Poetry)

I walk in the cathedrals' shadow,
a swelling knell of unceasing bells
echoing - renewal, heralding death.

I walk on patterned pavements.
Cobbled lanes where the scattered
remains of yesterday’s pizzas lie,

limp and sallow. Seagulls scream
and harry each other, over the carrion
of a spent meat supreme.

Down Hope Street I stumble, fumble
a cigarette to my lips and take sips
of carbon monoxide, nicotine and cyanide.

Watch the dancing man throwing shapes
in the sun. Seeking a release from the hum,
the liquid breakfast he’s just drunk.

At the corner of Hardman street, I stop
noticing a penny someone has dropped.
Grimy with indifference, no shine is left

to this coin. Bereft of purpose it sits!
Rain washed on the edge of the gutter,
on the cusp, uncertain - teetering.

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