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These streets are as thin as an old man’s arteries
and so they should be in this narrow, narrow town
where secrets hide in shadows
blessed by sunlight falling
on buildings so close, so close
All is hidden here, it is by choice
by architectural design
The fathers of this town knew well
the value of privacy for they had many
dark and dangerous secrets
and so few places to hide them
in the open air

We were but patients stretched
on an implacable gurney
all those summers ago, I remember it well
though the impact was meant to cloud
such revelations from my sight
I stressed inwardly, pressing deep
to hold the secrets I was not allowed to keep
And even rehearsed them in my sleep
my cold, my lonely sleep

One day I swear I will return to the narrow
passageways of this ancient town to find
the architects of misery
On seeing them once more, face to terrible face
I will rise and recite the litany
they put within the blackened heart of me
And the streets will be too narrow
far too narrow for their escape

(c) Helen Valentina 2016