The old street

In the evening when the sun is low and casting the pink of days end into the sky

when the lights first come on in the street

and the lights seem bright and warm with welcome

You think how pretty everything looks bathed in the light

what a change it is after a bright day.

You walk quickly down to buy a drink

before the stores close

and you see the day go and the dark settle in comfortably.

Where are the people you thought would always be your friends?

They are a long way away, working, settling down with their families

you are still in the old neighborhood

but you know everything and where it all goes

you were happy for the first years, slowly it’s changed

now, it feels a little small, sometimes as you fall asleep

you fell the depression of everything being the same and unchanging.

You think about your job and it starts to seem boring and what will you do

in ten years time if it is all the same?

But right now

as you walk down your street

to buy a drink

and the sun is glinting the last minutes off the top of the buildings

the streets are dark

you remember when you were seventeen and every night was love

every night was fun and lights, and you remember the first time your hand explored her waist

you can still feel how soft and warm she was, just like the night

when you were seventeen.

Put the dollar across the counter and pick up the orange drink

let the cool glass fill your hand and thank old man Raheed

(he’s been working there a long time too)

and smile, walk back into the street and listen to the music as it comes down from the second floor

of the old cafe. Above the dark blue sky

fills with stars.


My debut novel, The Bomber, is out now. GO and have a look and maybe buy a copy.


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