You used to cross
Rockingham Street
to the bakers
on the corner
of Meadow Row
and buy 6 crusty rolls
and a white loaf of bread
and carry them back home
to the fifth floor
of the flats
where your mother said
keep the change for going
and you pocketed the change
to save for the 6 shooter gun
you’d seen in the toy shop
along the New Kent Road
and your mother
would butter a roll
and put in a slice of cheese
and you would go sit
in the window
over looking
the railway
shunting yard
and eat
taking in the rail trucks
loaded with coal
being shunted into
the yard and the trucks
unload and the coal
would fall down through
to the coal wharf below
and then you saw
the coal carts loaded
with sacked up coal
and the horses in harness
waiting to go
and you imagined
one of those horses
in saddle and you
taking off across
the Wild West
with your new 6 shooter
in your hand
tracking the bad cowboys
and dropping into
the public house
for a glass of redeye
or lemonade
don’t be too long
your mother said
nearly time for school
and as you ate
the last few crumbs
and sipped
the last drops of milk
from the glass
and wiped your mouth
with the back of your hand
a steam train
crossed the bridge
and you thought
of the bad cowboys
on Bank’s House Ridge.