re City crawl [Poem]

Dunlop tyres,
liquid headlights
streak above the river
Irwell - starlights of the soil

Below,
canal paths are busy
with end-of-day bustle,
while the daily 9-to-5 grind
washes the faces of desperate
drivers, grinding to a halt
in another traffic
crawl

teetering

caught
in heavy showers;
clear, caterpillars
wriggle down wound-shut
window panes,
I imagine

as I bite into an unripe
plum


Catherine Mark