The phone rings
The cat meows
Early in the morning

I used to hear
A bird sing
But all I hear
Is a warning

The pavement ghosts
Sleep everywhere

They are neither
Man nor beast

One lonely night
I woke up
With one down
At my feet

To be alone
Is the flipside

Of being
A pavement ghost

The birds
When they used to sing
Would frighten them away

But as the birds decreased
The pavement ghosts increased

I expect
A training programme
For the new African birds
On how to sing very British like

There is no training
For the pavement ghosts
As the old trails disappear
They increase their bountiful crop

I do not admit
To ever having known them
In real life
They seem harmless enough
They are nameless

And it is a good idea
Not to remind them
Of who they used to be