Saturday, 13 December 2014

MAUD WATSON, FLORIST










































bred in a market arch 
a struggle
in a city's armpit

that flower
in your time-rough hands 
a beautiful girl in a slum alley

all that kindness in your face

and you're right

the times are not what they were
this England's not what it was

flowers shrink in that crumbling vase
dusk creeps in on a cart

and Maud the sun is choking 

Maud this island's sinking 

and all that swollen sea is 

the silent majority 

waving




Keith Armstrong

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