Magpies smashing windscreens
Lapping up night from the gutter
Somewhere dark and moist
Good books and daily bread
A woman confesses sins
For cheap clothes suit all.
In black and white
Two cardinals sing
In the calm of the storm
After the taste of anchovy.
And when your eyes behold
A landscape of opal and sulphur
Snatched from time
As a crow haunts your front door.
You will age
Your voice will fade
Your heart will rage
And one summer evening
You will hear
A whisper from the cellar.
Life From A Park Bench 
Great and powerful imagery in your poem, Alan! I hope the whisper is a benevolent one.
Oh this is so good, Alan. The way you skip of image to image, mixing them up, building up an emotional response and then that zinger ending is so engaging, effective.