The pinnacle…
Follow the lights and you will find the gold.
A Severn wind rattles the soul,
Rain like pins my face a cushion.
Edifice a vision, wooden windows a fact,
a collection of faces glued in community,
Now divided again by scheme-funded foolery.
To escape is to renounce
Only with strength comes intrinsically.
As thrust upon pages turn,
A dying side street lives
on the ensign of principality!

About the Author Alan Whitfield

I am a visual artist and poet who works within the context of fine art. My work is grounded in documentary, exploring the inner beauty of everyday life through various lens based media. Notions of nostalgia and social commentary are present, but from a definite northern working class perspective. Instinctively I exploring the townscapes of North Wales and the North West, often producing work that reflects the every day minutiae of life.

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