Town after Hours

Town after hours, streets
almost empty - the odd car,
two people walking on
both sides accosting
each other across the width
of wet brick in mild

inebriation…stranded at
the sparkling shrine of a
jeweller’s, arms linked,
a hopeful couple stands
adoring. In the market square
the stalls have gone, to leave

a scattering of waste: a range
of empty boxes, cabbage leaves,
of sodden paper and of
polythene. A shaggy dog
comes sniffing, and on all
this dirt the dusk comes down.