‘Irony’
You stood, with iron
grey beard and
bended iron grey head, Dispensing
largess to the breakfast crowd. Hand
disappearing into your white Sainsbury’s bag, But,
oh how they loved you.Their
iron grey feathers blending en-masse into
a frenzy, a chorus, pigeon pie, a
pecking order of ordered disarray. I
looked at your face, you
looked up at me standing above on
the iron grey bridge strangers
both, but joined by common thought our
love for them, feed
them, and they come, white
swan, orange beak amidst
the iron grey, young
ones half and half, pushing
and shoving for your bread no
fear, no tact, just
hungry on this beautiful morning. No
words said, but I watched, then walked on, the
iron grey of the river dividing our lives. Goodbye, but thank you
for generating in my heart a response,
love,
wishing, care and hope. Perhaps
after all we do have a future. Humanity,
frail, needing to love.Yes,
that is the essence, yes,
that is the rope that binds us reminds
us, to love, is to hope.
Written
Summer 1998 by Matylda whilst walking along the River Great Ouse in Bedford
contact details: photography, writing, creative project management
Labels: Life's Observations - Poetic Lines
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