POEM OF THE MONTH: THE LIGHT SHOW BY CHRIS TOWERS
The Light Show by Christopher Towers - October 2023
You always loved the flood lights, razzle, dazzle, white,
gloved and snug, you saw the giant sparklers torch the skies,
glimpsing those fire balls, outside the Coach and Horses,
as you tingled with the cold , mingled with the faithful.
With cheeks like beefsteak tomatoes, your teeth became
a chattering, a hankie for a sniffle, another with smiles,
then a shuffle through the styles, snatching a programme
from a ticket man, like taking a tissue from a box,
and in the evening storm the floodlights kept you warm.
You talked a plenty of twenty- thousand people
at Bramhall Lane, in 1878, to see the first floodlights.
Your voice croaking as you glanced the lights above.
Their spiderly glow casting their luminescence on the red
and black squares of the Sheffield shirts, reminding you
of Subbuteo days and tabletop toy floodlights replacing
top lights in the dining room games of old.
You spoke, with eager words, tumbling, round and round,
like clothes in a washer, revolving around your mouth.
Even in drizzle, you sparkled under those floodlights,
smelling peas and chip tray gravy, in the light show.