In The Coolness Of London Winter Poem by Eustace Dunn

In the wee hours of a Monday morning in March
The room in Pembury was the coolest.
Eyes were not ready to befriend the rising sun.
Through the window it was no fairytale,
The curtains bowed to the breeze for loyalty.
It was no dream, it was winter!
Winter at Finsbury Park
Was not winter at Dagenham Heathway.
But in the coolness of the London winter I froze.

The street of Long Acre once asked
How fare thee in your stay?
Answers weren’t straight as snarl paved its way,
It was winter!
In the coolness of the London winter I froze.

No one was a fen of stagnant waters
We could travel long distances for food.
“Thou hath not been fooled”
We told our cold ears wrapped in the hood.
Rising up to return again,
Highbury and Islington became best thriller
To the Finbury neighbourhood.
On our way,
We froze from the coolness of the London winter.

The winter molded our hearts in squared blocks.
As we walked with our hearts pure as naked heaven,
The glaring suspicious eyes of the uniformed men
Sent us fears to wear…
Even as we froze in the coolness of the London winter.

Our hearts assured of returning
Returning to our own home
A home of freedom and no burning
In fear
Where there’s humour in envious feud.

Fare thee well London as my home calls
My heart will not dance on my chest
Walking on your streets
In the coolness of your winter.
Fare thee well.