The Singers' Terrace

When they said 'Liverpool', I could hear
the febrile echo of the Kop's red roar.
I imagined it; unequivocal, vocal,
in a stadium built of noise.

I say to myself 'Anfield'
and its music hits off this place,
like a football slammed against concrete:
I see the glittering sound.

Catechism, leitmotif, litany:
there's only one, only one, only one;
John Barnes, Ian Rush, Stevie Gerrard,
Dalglish, Souness, Keegan.

When I came here first, you were always singing,
a soaring chorus 'Walk on, walk on',
seas of heads suddenly outlined.
Raise it again, believe what we hear.

You stand at the end of summer
in the mouth of the Anfield roar,
shoulder to shoulder, their anthem,
a ferry, buoying you home.

(with acknowledgement to Seamus Heaney)

By Liz Loxley

By Liz Loxley