a walk down memory lane.

The morning sun glared from behind the silhouette of
Hunched over oak trees, competing for space with
The grave stones in the cemetery on horizons plane.
I had just reached the top of the Attenborough road junction,
A sea of flowers uniformly spaced, greeted me
Either side of the path leading through peace walk.
This was my favourite spot in the whole universe;
A universe I thought had despaired down a black hole.
Extending my gait in anticipation of smelling the
Newly mown grass I purvey the beautiful surroundings.

Beyond the paths brow stood the majestic
War memorial; gloriously marbled amid
The translucent glare of morning light.
A poppy Reith pristine in presentation
And purposefully placed at the foot,
In between the grand arc which supported the structure.

My eyes surveyed the place where fallen comrades
Memory lay immortalised for their valiant service
And bravery, to save this our fair England
From further war and tyranny.
“In God we trust to fight the freedom fight is our must.”
Chiselled into the crown.
A constant reminder of who was in control.

Ambling on down through Victoria park drive path,
A lone figure fort its own familiar war against the tarmac;
Plodding along ungracefully, arms flailing
Pounded the pavement.

Oh to be young again and feel the rush;
The wind in your face,
Streaming tears from your eyes,
Feeling your chest pounding,
The blood pumping through your arteries,
Endorphins crashing from one brain cell to another…

Feeling particularly adventurous this morning
Our was I tired, I don’t know which, I took the short cut through the
Old University. 1960s art deco buildings dwarfed me,
Made me dizzy as I look up in awe of this man made universe.
The Chinese student out-side the library smoking a cigarette,
Tapping out some mandarin text to a friend
On his smart phone;
The hum of the air conditioning
From the sub sounding like
Turbines on jet fighters;
A pigeon careers through the architectural space,
Wings straight, its body bulleting through the sky at the speed of sound.
Oh what bliss my mind captured on the negative of my heart,
Fluttering with pure exhilaration.
It’s called excitement when you're getting old.

Leaving the University, I went left onto the wood lined road
Where the cemetery lay like an undisturbed Victorian preserved room.
The monuments stood surreal like a scene from a horror movie.
Ivy spiralled like tendrils around the sides of all forgotten stones.
They don’t use this place anymore and the sepulchres
More pieces of ancient art than blocks of stone.

I felt trapped in a time warp of antiquity.
Then bringing me back to reality a black cab came hurtling round
The corner…the modern coffins of the 20th century.

I headed on right down the Welford road and over looked the city.
The sun behind me warmed my back to the contrast of the chill of my breath.
The city was starting to rise from another night of nocturnal sleep…
I was nearly home. The city lay beneath folds of coloured sky
Magenta and the yellow of corn fields.

The dry stone wall separating the road from the cemetery
Started to grow like an all consuming monster
As I descended down the hill
And crossed the foot bridge of the central mainline railway.

The cemetery from a new angle came into view and the dereliction
Was as clear as the mornings brightening light.
Cars and Lorries came rushing up towards the crossroad junction
And bleary eyed drivers smoked their first cigarettes of the day
Whilst trying to wipe the sleep from their eyes.

I crossed to the Leicester college rear entrance with its new
Bright halogen electric blue sign adding contrast to its terracotta brick walls.
The mission of the deaf now being transformed into some
New project: Just a shadow of the old wooden cross
Stained the pebble dashed wall, and remnants of its logo
Protruding from a rusted old yellow skip:
Regeneration from past generations to the modern move of change:

I turned left down Aylestone path behind the tigers rugby ground
And marched past the entrances of Saint Augustine’s stand and terrace row. Nearing the end of the jitty an elderly gent
Put out orange traffic cones in the car park,
Preparation for the coming days play.

On the corner of Walnut street, Welford road junction,
Stood the infirmary car public car park ,on the other side
A washed out remains of a jungle scene mural.
depleted of all colour except for the tropical mosaic glass squared
Fish placed sporadically like an after thought
To the original design…

This was Leicester. The Leicester I remember
The Leicester steeped in history and peaceful thought and baithed in ambient light.
The Leicester I walked away from,
I felt I was finally back home.