He remembers a time
when he was the centre
of the circle.
A social hub, a club
close colleagues, no -
more than that -
firm friends...
Spontaneous
sojourns to the pub
on Friday evenings
...just for a quick one.
Rolling home
at Eleven-thirty
bursting with
camaraderie
and a full bladder.
A pleasant institution
in their voluntary
institutionalised
Public Service
sinecure
So hard to
stick a pin
in the point
of change
Drive.
Disillusionment.
Disinterest.
Dismissals.
Dispersals.
Deaths.
All leading toward
this unfamiliar place
sharing space with
strangers with names.
Hearty
hallos
in halls.
Hollow.
Next Friday
they will
toast his health
tell bawdy
half-remembered
stories, badly.
Exaggerate his
achievements.
Present him with
their heartfelt gift
( travel vouchers
he will never use -
he has no heart for travel
since he lost her.
How would they know? )
Monday
the alarm will ring.
He will turn it off
one final time.
He will accept
well meant
invitations
to future
Friday frolics.
Until
one Friday
the strangers
will have no names.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
This was an entry for an Allpoetry contest where the prompt was the line "strangers with names", and won the Bronze trophy for 3rd place in the contest
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
when he was the centre
of the circle.
A social hub, a club
close colleagues, no -
more than that -
firm friends...
Spontaneous
sojourns to the pub
on Friday evenings
...just for a quick one.
Rolling home
at Eleven-thirty
bursting with
camaraderie
and a full bladder.
A pleasant institution
in their voluntary
institutionalised
Public Service
sinecure
So hard to
stick a pin
in the point
of change
Drive.
Disillusionment.
Disinterest.
Dismissals.
Dispersals.
Deaths.
All leading toward
this unfamiliar place
sharing space with
strangers with names.
Hearty
hallos
in halls.
Hollow.
Next Friday
they will
toast his health
tell bawdy
half-remembered
stories, badly.
Exaggerate his
achievements.
Present him with
their heartfelt gift
( travel vouchers
he will never use -
he has no heart for travel
since he lost her.
How would they know? )
Monday
the alarm will ring.
He will turn it off
one final time.
He will accept
well meant
invitations
to future
Friday frolics.
Until
one Friday
the strangers
will have no names.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
This was an entry for an Allpoetry contest where the prompt was the line "strangers with names", and won the Bronze trophy for 3rd place in the contest
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
