I have come to new lands, new towns, this new city,
I have lived an experience that I like to think is new
And though this spirit here it misses what was pretty
I find rich repose in these rugged streets so true.
The ravenous Celtic beast brought shiny apartments; glamour.
While the Welsh streets still have cracks, winding alleys.
The former I don't wish to sell or put under the hammer
But the winding sloping streets clop with a lilting cacophony.
The importance of this sound I will carry with me
When I return home with fresh eyes, soulful feet
Walking the paved bleached pathways straight as geometry
Noticing the different echo, the different faces that I meet.
Seán O Muiríosa
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/walking-sound/
