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Yellow Jacket
There is a cycle brigade that leaves bright and early every morning
I follow them through the rustic narrow strips of park
Along the scenic view before the march, of traffic
And commuter feet swallows up this pastoral symphony
And one solitary lark rises above clouds
Its song unheard beneath the din of hooting horns
And bicycle bells
I follow them further still, under the grand wellington arch
Passed the soldiers in full kit on early morning drill
Racing down lanes beneath an early morning breath of trees
Passed the changing of the guards
The flying flag above the palace
And then their journey home
Illuminations in the dark
One bright stream
A hundred yellow shining jackets
yvette smith march 09
poem
by
Yvette Smith
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