Old Town Elegy

OLD TOWN ELEGY
  
The bridge still arches the road but with what design?  
The railway that once crossed Ridgeway and vale to the sea
Is erased and gone, with now scarcely residual sign
And barely more trace than near roads of Roman decree

From the bridge, track the ghosts of line, goods yard, Old Town Station 
Where we loitered and noted the numbers of each passing train
Web of steel and of steam entwined village and town across nation
'Til the Arcadian rural slow lines were made suddenly to wain

Gone: the Market where cows sheep and pigs brought in telling perceptions
The images, noises and smells of the farms to the town
The tweeded farmers with leathery limbs and faces
And gaiters of deepest sheen in a rich chestnut brown

Flaxen ropes, billhooks, pitchforks enough for a peasants' uprising
Spread along the High street and across the Corn Exchange square
While Newport Street furnished inns for all thirsts' reviving
And above all, the clock tower made skyline iconic and fair

Then was school run not cosseted, chauffeured, in family car
But raced, skipped or dawdled through field, street, market and station
Our little world teamed with action, unscreened, with no bar
Of health and safety; but adventure without filtration

In that different world did we souls in diverse forms reside
So are we the same people and do we now view the same place?
And can we yet see immortality's intimations undenied?
The adventures continue though perhaps at a difference pace.

Tags: rhyme, hope, imagery,