Well not my first, but I deleted all the ones I wrote before it, I reckon this was written in about 1998, I’ve saved my poems to my hard drive ever since and have several hundred. I can’t remember what inspired this one, maybe walking down to Bolton University when I was studying history, there is a rough gravel car park near HSS Hire shop which I vaguely remember.
Car Park Attendant
Anonymous face slinking round the car park
On that space, the grave of a factory dismembered.
He doesn’t speak, but he waves, every morning at me -
Faces he knows or registrations remembered.
Then I see him at night sleeping in bus-stops
Not homeless, but waiting for his bus to stop.
Under streetlights gold stars, he’s weary of cars
The traffic mist clearing, petrol fumes thick.
Once when I sat window-down, killing time
Half-light and soft-rain he walked between vehicles,
Down the line, muttering conversations alone.
A prayer caught – about cancer, his daughter and miracles.
Click here to see my funny self portrait on my 365 project.