I placed one foot in front of the other
Late at night in a northern English town.
Through a northerly gale in November
With a wind chill which all but bought me down.
I’d been dropped by a bus around midnight
For a job interview the coming day;
No normal public service in daylight
Left me with this trip as the only way.
My core temperature on the shut down
Much needed shelter absent from the street,
I could see two lights only in the town,
One, a five star inn was far too elite.
For me it wasn’t really an option;
At the time I earned just enough to eat.
The second light had to be salvation -
This a blue light at the end of the street.
Yes, it was of course a police station,
The reception area small and spare.
The desk sergeant gave me his attention
And scoped me with his professional stare.
Managed to explain my situation
With mouth frozen almost beyond repair,
And while there were holes in my narration
The sins he was searching for just weren’t there.
He allowed me a seat in reception;
After outside my condition felt sweet
Because this way it was a salvation
From a slow lingering end on the street.
The next hour there were no other punters
Either casual or under arrest.
The sergeant was not busy with others
So he offered me a mug of his best ->
Well brewed tea and for this I was grateful;
Also a biscuit - it felt like a treat,
(Could have done with hot water and towel
To give comfort to my half frozen feet).
On returning the mug I was offered
The chance to kip for the rest of the night;
I hesitated and then accepted
A downstairs cell which by then felt alright.
The cell was clean if a little spartan;
But the mattress an upgrade from the chair-
Asked if the door be closed or left open,
He accepted my choice of - just ajar.
With my head on my pack as my pillow
I thought I might dine out on this one day,
Not realizing when feeling mellow
That lines of doggerel would have a say.