The old streets growing up
weren’t that much fun
as the last of the horse and carts
made their way through town
You knew when the
Rag and Bone Man were coming
though his voice boomed through the street
there was a noise that was much louder
A Hard Noise Of Hardened Iron
meeting slabs of solid stone
announcing to all – we’re here
with the sound of clip following clop
and later in the day
feet followed horse
from walk to green
on a visit to a cherished auntie
The Inkwell 