To the Memory of a friend recently departed

Morning up in East Ham

Morning up in east Ham

Peering through wet panes

Imprisoned by September’s

Saturating chains, tapping out

The rhythm of the London bound trains

Window bound in East Ham

Deciphering the scene

Rows of ageing red brick

Where dappled pigeons preen

Toppling cricket stumps

On a threadbare green

Gazing over East Ham

Counting tower blocks

Barren window boxes

Limp white shirts and socks

Manipulating cranes

Over by the docks

Morning up in East Ham

Waiting for the sun

To crown the factory wall

Where night work’s almost done

With skywriting jets

And silhouettes that stun