dash

Green

I think that the railings were green. They were tall;
not so tall, I suppose, as the memory shows,

but enough; and staggered, a challenge
to bikes and to scooters to ride in between

without touching, to mums with their prams
and their earlier products in tow

when they came at the time when the bell
rang to go. Either side of the drive

wooden fences like sentries that guided
you in to the desert of tarmac

with circles and snakes you could balance
on, holding the brakes, where you almost

got lost the first time you crossed
to the doors, the three steps at the entrance

that led to the long polished floors.
They were green, I remember;

perhaps just a hint of a sepia tint;
but, yes; they were certainly green.


Bob Dew

If you have any comments on this poem,  Bob Dew  would be pleased to hear them.

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