What was she doing, there?
What was she doing, there?
Like some old bag lady.
Another displaced foreigner...
Sitting in Piccadilly, gardens
Manchester, today...
“With a toy pram
and 2 clothed dollies”
“One dressed in green,
a much larger in reddish brown”.
Simply put on the fountains cobbles...
Dressed in these old linens
Her dollies lying face down.
How odd? No one is looking...?
Not one sees the child’s pram.
Only big enough for a small, cat.
How odd these two babies,
look—displaced on the ground.
One displaced to her left.
Another to her right…
It’s the 9th of October—2011
the time tomorrows date 10.10am
on a grey, wet Sunday, morning.
And, her presence questions me?
Quietly, disturbs me.
Before I catch my 101 bus…
Lord what is real…?
What is sequential in a world of madness…?
poem by Mark Heathcote
Added by Poetry Lover
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