Sainsburys – long marble counters with men in crisp white aprons
To measure and wrap the tea and butter,
To weigh the broken biscuits and
Cut the bacon with the whir of the spinning blade
Pay at the cashier’s window, the bill
Winging it’s way by pneumatic tube
A bicycle shop, unlit and dirty
Dark behind the grubby finger marked windows
Inside like a pile up at a vintage bike rally
Used and new parts in heaps at the mercy of memory
Old Harry, oil stained fingers and streaked cheeks
Sat behind the counter with a mug of thick sweet tea.
Going to the corner shop to get a penny for empty pop bottles
Collected from another shop’s backyard down the street.
Stealing an extended play record, but it was just the sleeve.
Buying cigarettes from the station kiosk, in ones and twos or
On pocket money day, a packet of four Domino
Or Black Jack liquorice chews, four a penny.
Those were the days, my friend.
That did, of course,
Come to an end.
12th August 2020
