I imagine there will be no family there

at Ted’s graveside today,

as a single crow falls silent in respect

in Anfield Cemetery

the last of his line,

the last remaining soul.

I first encountered Ted some years earlier,

a man of smiles and intrigue

but now his days were spent

keeping warm in the taxi café

off Lime Street Station and drinking tea,

reading the paper

and occasionally telling a story

of his life…

now consigned to fading memory,

both he and the café alike.

I blame local government for Ted’s sad passing,

the café a place of shelter for him,

a place to converse cheaply,

with no sense of rush,

stamped with money grabbing hands

and demolished, bulldozed to make way

for the swanky new.

We commit Ted to a memory

one that will surely fade as we too

are forced from our shelters.

 

Ian D. Hall 2017