Shoes – John McAteer

cranes climb a London sky
windswept and cold
taller than cathedral spires
huge tower blocks and corporate structures
a view surreal in the glow of dawn
impressionist hues enchanting

squealing views along suburban streets
as the underground rumbles
and a dog barks

lighting a cigarette
constructing the first coffee
thoughts ramble to places and people
a world away
and in circumstances which altered forever
everything

on mornings like this it is the shoes of other men
those which trod paths less confrontational
that both inspire and haunt