Fiver
Echoes
off tenement windows,
sound mixed
with fluttering glimpses
of fake hanging ghosts.
Perhaps
we’re only just
remembering, or
noticing how much
we usually forget.
For a fiver I can get
some rides on the outer
or inner, more
tenement windows,
more music.
I take a puff
outside Partick
station, then go about
my business
with a grin.
Copyright © Erin Beckett | Year Posted 2023
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