Our Poem by Richard G Berg

Our

I overheard a woman
Mumble through a mask
Stuck to her jaw
That OUR prime minister
Was ill

I wondered whether he
Would be bothered
By her
Concern

More to the point, would he
Care, to think of her
Feeling close enough
To claim him OURS

Not her concern,
I suspect

But
It should be OURS.


Richard G Berg
April 2020

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