Liberty In The Liberties

First thing hits me is the flats
This ain’t my habitat
Balconies in the Sun
People go on holidays for that
Few people lounging on the grass
Having a can, having a laugh
Go quiet as I pass
Almost see their eyeballs ask
‘What’s he looking at?’
So I divert my eyes back
To the flats
Red brick stacks
Taking in the now
Wondering bout their past
As in the now they seem serene
These streets I walk between
To me silently scream
Beckoning me in more
Pass a man
Smiling in his door
I ask him, is he well?
His eyes smilingly tell
As he looks at the Sun scorching me
Lifts his hands
And says,
‘How could ya not be?’

© Daniel Breslin