I am an exile
From a town remembered
Where time ceased
When my bus pulled out
Almost a life ago.
People who cannot age
In memories amber
Walk its streets
Short-back-and-sides people
Who stand for ‘The Queen’,
Drive British cars,
Hold now derided attitudes.
We
Belong to each other.
I loved them.
Love them still.
They live in me
And through me.
But!
I can never return.
My return would mean,
For them,
Immediate dissolution.