Fiddlers Ferry powered the lights,
kept the TV on.

I remember being sat in granddad’s van
in the passenger seat on a booster.
We drove out that way before nursery,
let the pigeons out before racing them
back to the house.

When I was six we moved.
My mum spent ages in showrooms
looking at “modern developments with four bedrooms,
the master with an en-suite and an idyllic view”
of a power station.

I tried football for a while.
played my first game in the shadow
of one of the vast cooling towers.
It belched out steam for the midsummer friendly
and it rained.

Since then I’ve moved away.
Buses to Wigan for A-levels and trains to Newton
to sit with girls in parks,
playing love games.
I moved to Winchester for Uni,
developed an “individual view on the world,”
which we all shared.

I don’t really see Fiddlers Ferry anymore
but I know, it still rains there.

© James Butler 2011