The cycle chain clutched my trouser-leg
and spat it out again
The wet leaves and early dark with
City lights and the leaving for home
Took me back to Mr Crane the
Latin teacher of 40 years ago
His trousers cycle clipped AND chain guarded
His nervous glasses and sudden diabetic rages.
He’ll be dead of course – but really is he ?
He’s here with me, my 55 year old self at the side of a northern street
and my twin
the 12 year old boy in a midland evening waiting for my Mum ..