Thackeray’s text remembered ever
From far off days at convent school
Applies today – it seems the rule.
Blustery winds that chase the clouds
Well-wrapped commuters lost in crowds
Against a dark, uncertain light
With wayward, battered brolly bright.
Puddles reflecting branches bare
A decided nip runs through the air
Scant scraps of paper hurtle by
Losing the battle to keep dry.
Bent against the wind each face
As scattered raindrops fall apace
The click of footsteps, whose? Who knows?
Eyes cast downwards, stare at toes.
Opportunities are missed
Another neighbour we’ve not kissed
Unrecognised, out of our sight
Hurrying homewards in dim light.
Victims of this troubled squall
Wounded brollies in the hall
Dripping forlornly on the mat
Once held high, now crushed and flat.
Their spokes awry, their rib cage cracked
Thousands now have broken back
And jettisoned by passers-by
In bins in awkward postures lie.
(c) Poet in the woods 2014
William Makepeace Thackeray (1811-1863)
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