Burnbank’s Noises.

Burnbank’s Noises!

When it get’s dark and I am

on my own I still hear noises

from my old home in Burnbank.

But I can’t hear the trains in

the shunting yard, I left my

home when times were hard.

In Bertram street we could keep

the beat as the bolt work hammer

could be felt in the street. Carpet

workers would be at the door if

you sang or danced they

shouted more!

But I can’t hear the trains in the

shunting yards, I left my home

when times were hard.

I still hear the diesels beside the

bridge, listen for the chieftains

as my brothers did while the

rubber smells, the gaffer yells

will you cut that tread.

But I can’t hear the trains in the

shunting yards where we gleaned

the coal when times were hard.

You could hear the screams of

rats down in the tank, when we

threw down rocks as we climbed

the bank. Foundry noises split

the air and if you walked too

close you could smell it in

your hair.

But I can’t hear the trains in the

shunting yard, where we sought

out breakages when times were

hard. When the works on strike

or your dad got his cards.

Yes I left home when times were

hard but late at night when the

quietness comes, I swear I can

still smell the factory lums

in Burnbank.

Written for Historic Hamilton by

Kit Duddy

kitspoems

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