I tramp the streets of the city of York

Walking down the ways, I’ve walked before

For so many years, the same old route

Never changing or altering by so much as a foot

Though people pass me by, they never see me

But I can see them so very clearly

So totally wrapped up in their everyday lives

Yet young children stop and stare, eyes wide

Dogs bark or growl softly, cats run away

I suppose I must seem frightening, I don’t know why

When I enter a tavern, I’m still ignored

If I sit down beside someone

They don’t acknowledge me or

Offer to buy me a drink

I no longer know where my friends have gone

I’m the ghost of a Roman soldier,

Lost in the city of York

(Marilyn Shepperson)