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                                  Trio

 

                         Image in the mirror

                         is a younger version

                         alone  with a pretty smile

                         Days are decorated

                         with social graces

                         wealth of custom

                         cushions the corners

 

                         These latter days  trailing

                         a sputtering rocket

                         ready to spend its energy

                         in the drop to Earth

                         a dog and a child

                         raise their heads

                         in a perennial question

 

                         Beloved  with a nervous bark

                         etched in every line of his stance

                         Don’t you know

                         we all sing for our supper?

 

 

                                ************

 

 

                                 We Shall Fight On The Beaches

 

                         The bitch  memory

                         drives me down dark streets

                         on the prowl

                         haunted by shadows

                         of young men in topcoats

                         Sounds of their footsteps

                         strike the wet pavements

                         in a rush to poignant appointments

 

 

                         Girls wait near the telephone

                         rigidly controlled

                         wait  to explain

                         to the young men who never come

 

 

                                                 Jack Mashman