Only Life* Poem by Ian Bowen

Now the church bell
never quite reached double figures
as childen sing in assembly,
before maths and history.

Out on the neat streets,
the eyes of the village watch
the swinging, straw baskets
to and fro the shops...

were the grocer sliced ham
as thin as you possible can.
The baker's apprentice
injects jam into doughnuts,
while dreaming of the flowing curls
of village, teenage girls.
The coalman delivers nineteen bags
at number twenty...cheat,
kicked the last on with his feet.

In the library,
a copy of Lady Chatterly's Lover
is moved onto the top shelf.
by a lady in tweed and sensible shoes.

The local policeman, leans on his bike
and dreams of a post office raid,
his picture in the paper.

Not much happens here...

only life.