Treasure Island

oskar hansen


The lady sings the blues


The Lady of Sings.


A woman opened her umbrella made of dreams,

painted bluebells, buttercups tulips and rosemary
Now her flowers needed sunlight and the sight of

blue sky. She walked slowly eyes to the ground

looked for horse manure, which is not easy to find

in a time dominated by cars and motorbikes

At the railway station she tripped on shoes not fit

for cobbled streets; trains stood idle, she inhaled

diesel fumes despite the fact that the line had been

electrified years ago. Locomotive drivers on strike,

sat in a café across the road drank black coffee

bore an expression of steely determination, but

they were worried and feared for their jobs,

the line has been privatized, always bad news

for workers.

The lady didn't find what she was looking for, but

the walk had done her flowers well; she put her

umbrella in the chicken coop.

Submitted: Wednesday, April 10, 2013
Edited: Tuesday, October 08, 2013

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