There’s an echo at the heart of Cardiff

John Speed's map of Cardiff
Image via Wikipedia

There’s an echo at the heart of Cardiff
and a whitespace at its shoulder
where its heart migrated to.

A calm descends in an ampitheatre
where hearts once were shoulders
and a thick-skinned man sings

to no-one but me and of no accord,
nor accordion accompanying,
simply for the sound

to combat the coming of
tides – to cheer the going of hearts
and the echoes of hearts at the heart of Cardiff.

I think I like Cardiff.

It serves as a bit of a revelation, really. It’s a small city and I’m used to country or town.