Living with shadows

Once there was a time, mill chimneys ruled our skies, above the shadowed streets, where people lived their lives. Once there were the stories, that grandma used to share, of troubled times at the mill, and kitchen cupboards bare. Once there was a window, at home where I belonged, I sat and counted those chimneys, but they disappeared one by one. Once there was cotton here, it's kingdom didn't last, we're still living with shadows, those memories of the past.