Liverpool
The first smell of rain hitting city walls
Before slipping down into guttery streams
Heavy drops splattering layers of ashes and dirt
Causing clouds to clot in noses of newly wet children
Wet soot snots that run so black memories keep coming back
Like scabs on bare and dirty knees
Or fog enveloping invading nostrils
Condensing eyelids blinding sight
Muffling sound and squeezing light
Hiding the world in the wetness
Of a cloud too heavy to fly
Carrying smells of sea salt and tar
Smoke of smouldering coal fires
Rolls off wet tile rooftops to mingle
With the soapy smell of Monday
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