The Quietness of the Kipper Season

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 Watching the sky change from Petticoat Tower,
on the top floor a widower
scans the gold of morning, hassle of twilight,
glimpses the holy land as old animosities
settle over gin and lemonade
with the old boy from the ground floor
with the frame. Past rivalries fade
as we look down on the metropolis,
running over memory’s lines and points,
distant rays lighting up Cliff’s face
at South Bermondsey after Millwall v Fulham
in February sun after the quietness
of the Kipper Season, staring down the track
following another hard-fought nil nil at The Den.


In the Guardian’s feature on skyscraper living (February 4th), I was struck by the story of a retired cab driver who has lived near the top of Petticoat Tower for over 30 years, holding out among the glitzy buildings of the square mile.

The view from his window seemed almost other-wordly. He said that morning is when he reminisces – I included my memories of being in the area for football matches, blending them with his point of view in the article.


Source: https://footballpoets.org/poems/the-quietness-of-the-kipper-season/