Bewilderment of bones, stratified
under crouch of wynds and ginnels,
open coffins an invitation
or reminder of frailty.
History: a modern picnic
half digested, before eaten.
Wondered how many teeth found
in the grounds of a ruined abbey,
where flocks of one legged pirate
pigeons pepper your parkland
Listen; birdsong, traffic, voices,
common language, offer up choices,
so many accents,
'Buy a piece of the
Take a guided tour in pony and trap,
save your legs and catch a local call,
'Gerron yer Gippo's.'
as our clipclops pass a wide mouth
frothed by an open lager can.
Visitors welcome, mind walls remain,
exits, well marked in rail lines,
gates and a thunder of signs.
City of conquerors, you have not changed,
neither have we, seeking an identity
through those who have gone before.