Onto the Campus , Nancy Stevenson

Away from the City and down by the river.
Sunday morning, edgeland desolation.
At a railway footbridge, I get my instructions.
No Cycling, No Jogging, Slippery Path.
Obedient, I climb slowly and carefully,
up sloped switchbacks for the view from the top.

I see marshes imprisoned by grey metal mesh.
Eyes closed, I imagine the ancient port
I let my mind wander, see sailors and smugglers.
Essex serpents slither through marshland mud.
Then a train shudders under and I’m back on the bridge.
Surrounded by cameras. Big brother’s watching me.

Into paved wilderness, still under surveillance,
Shadows in doorways, ghosts at the windows,
Herd of lost shopping trolleys huddle together.
Campus style street art? I take a picture.
Along the River’s edge, past graffitied windows,
an abandoned hairdresser’s and some vacant shops.

Turn back to the marshes, litter in the reed beds.
I peer into empty student kitchens
Vestiges of a party, rubbish on the floor
Terrain of the morning after the night before.
Memories sparked of a time long past
Understanding this hangover landscape, at last.