Muirkirk

M is for

Muirkirk
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So bone chillingly cold and windswept
Even on a summer,s day
God has forsaken this town
He has taken a handful of houses
And chucked them in a field at random
Black coal dust hangs over this place
Like a funeral pall
Mines long shut
Cameraderie below the ground long gone
And old colliers meet and greet each other
Hawking their phlegm into the gutters
As time goes by
They end up below ground for an eternal shift
Cursing Thatcher and MacGregor;
The boarded up shops
Give an economic temperature
Will we see tumbleweeds tumbling aong the streets?
And the lone horse tethered at the saloon?
It is grey and drizzling wet
Dreich and melancholic
Pass through but for God,s s ake
Don,t stop in
Muirkirk;