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