In the still of the night, footsteps from the past are heard anew.
A soft brush of a sandal on a paved walkway.
A clip of hardened leather on a kerb.
The soft clatter of weight transfer together with the expelling of breath of restless horses after a hard day.
I have to let go of today to float backwards to connect with a distant time.
To really appreciate the way they lived their lives.
First the sounds surrounding us are totally different, remove bicycles, cars, van’s lorries trains, mobile phones, police cars and ambulances.
What commands your attention now?
No, it will not be silence!
It will be a cacophony of sounds.
Young, shrill voices earnestly selling goods to earn food for their families.
Costermongers shouting out their wares.
The selling of spices with their olfactory wafting tantalisation.
The whisper of silk beloved by women, and lavished on them by their men.
The warmth of wool being exchanged for the coolness of cotton as temperatures rise.
Passing the jewellery stall with a display of glittering, real or false gems tempting a purchase.
Last stop to the pub, for a pie and to sup a few tankards of well-deserved beer, never quite achieved, as you feel the years gathering you again and slipping you back to the present and home to bed.
2022 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen
Photo: Pixabay License
No comments:
Post a Comment