Within the sandy confines of the beige fronted streets I pass Sometimes lost in a shady labyrinth, of narrow paths A confusing shortcut making a wrong turn Spilling me then into crowds of Saturday shoppers Newly trendy vendors selling specialities in street arty squares Places to be where freshly brewed coffee perfumes the air
Born again quarters named after new tram stops Ushering in gentrification through organic food shops
Despite its many changes of direction This street map holds on to my affection
Only I can see the tracing paper layer of where I see the traces of moments of our lives in places
The cartography of my memories overlayed The coordinates that my heart strings played Etched in the air, as I turn that corner there As if sketched on a layer of see through paper The image of a memory’s trailing vapour Of a moment, years ago, at this exact location
