Walking Out. Poem by Peter Vealey

Glasses were collected,
A normality of cleaning tables
In your world.
Far from mine.
Retired!
Glad not to be hired.
Yet looking to be attractive
To the greater sum.
Saw an old love and felt traitorous
But what could I ever be
Now?
Limp gestures from
Far pavilions.
We are you, are me, and
As Beatles said are
"All together".
(But aparts sorry!)
Walking out, in the new divide,
Dumb speeches I can`t hear
On a pub widescreen
Tell me more
About the
Country we are.