Silhouettes 

What I see in the high street  
are monuments facing, 
gazing at the walls, 
flowers smelling of grass, 
 candy floss, rain,  
 teeth marks on every corner, 
near a tree a naked body  
thirsty, destitute  
of life to live, 
an excruciating pain ranks 
the feet of others as  
underfoot and undercoats 
underbelly, underplay 
underfelt, underclass, 
silhouettes on the pavement  
defying the stones, the  
the radiant tattoos on a broken chest, 
  pins, nail clippers, Vaseline, 
Limp-balm  
have thinned your soul,
thatched roofs, 
cottage gardens, 
evergreen roses, serenading  
Alley-ways, dogs so kind, 
so humane accompanying the 
woman wearing torn 
matted hair like a volcano of names 
dates without addresses,
I will step off  
the pavement. 
to allow passersby to carry 
their laden bags of groceries, 
tensing their muscles, 
spreading their legs 
to keep their balance, 
again, and again 
I will commit my hours to find 
the etched silhouettes  
on the pavement
The place of the fallen.