Street Scene

They are digging up the streets,

Red plastic barriers abound 

Corralling  people into streams

To marshal them around.

The City exudes an air

Of anguished pain

Not being helped by

The day's grey drizzling rain.

The once proud flagship stores

That filled the City centre, 

Those once filled emporia,

Once a joy to enter,

Are now at very best

Remnants from the past,

Near deserted aisles making one wonder
Just how much longer they can last.

New, never filled shopping centres

Try to give the City a modern face

But Are now looking sad and forlorn

And, here , tawdry and out of  place.

This city that survived the blitz,

Fed the country through its docks,

Now looks tired and exhausted

Having had one too many shocks.

In this pre City of Culture year 

This year of disrupted streets

They say the barriers will move
And the work will be complete.

And some of our venues

Quite a few at least

Will be open to the world

For their Culture feast.

So we know in time 

The barriers will be gone

Until then we shrug shoulders

And as always carry on.

In the Interchange there'll

Still be chaos and fuss

Because who ever designed it

Can't ever have driven a bus.

The visiting Culture Vultures

In time will feed and disappear

And once again the greedy South

Will forget that we are  here.

And, maybe in some dusty depot

A Red Plastic Barrier will tell the story

Of how they controlled our streets

In their few months of glory.