‘Back to black’

It mutters morning
mourning all the mornings
that have been.

What should not have been
became
and not because it was
although it was.

A smell of woodsmoke
stokes an ancient memory.

But lost now in the statuesque
hidden amongst the grotesque.
Esmerelda .

Who dared paint this picture
of the ruins in Cathedral square?

© 2019, John Smallshaw.