ON FOOT IN THE WESTGATE

[Thoughts after attending the medieval Fayre in the Westgate, 14th June 2008]
Is this "free verse"?
Squelching trainers kicking clattering cans, crushing crisp packets
Go bulging over the cluttered cobbles.
Dream-heard, under-threading the clatter, tramps the measured tread
Of Roman sandals. as the Century in formation strides up the Westgate,
Unseen, unheard among the grubby, squelching trainers.

Threading among the squelching trainers and the striding sandals
Pad broad-toed pantobles, burdened with veined gout-swollen legs.
The cobbles are hard, paining the rich broad silent invisible feet
Weaving between the squelching trainers and the striding sandals.

Clacking platform soles clatter, clumsy among the squelching trainers.
Fraying jeans flap between the silent striding sandals,
The noiseless broad velvet padding feet passing unnoticed
Treading endlessly, unseen, unheard, up the Westgate.

One day my footsteps too, shod with old boredom and silent invisibility,
Will merge into the palimpsest of squelching trainers,
Clacking platform soles, padding pantobles, striding sandals,
Unseen, unheard, forgotten, with all the centuries gone before in the Westgate.
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