Poem – For love of Jonathan

For love of Jonathan

Outside the Old Vic

intent on getting a seat in the gallery

we exchange sidelong glances

a busker’s fingers dance on the yellowed

keys, on an old accordion.

My companions baggy linen jacket

shouts intellectual, the threadbare knees

of his trousers whisper beware.

Later full of language and laughter

we idle across WaterlooBridge

watch the reflections of the city

melt into the depths of the Thames.

In memory of Jonathan Wren

This entry was posted in Ann's memoir, Cheer yourself up, Poetry - Creative Writing and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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