The ghosts have been evicted from the disused mills
whose floors are rattled by different shuttles
conducting sheets plaster-board and clear glass that glints when tilted
Northwards, framing the stuttering narrowboats below.
Bare brick interiors re-point the past towards the future –
rolled steel rulers columnise the spaces
tabulating the profit and loss.
Oh the souls are out and about, down and out
weaving through courtyards and underneath arches
and joining with revellers from all night parties
Permanently within the fabric.