Something You Want To Tell Us Edward Bawden? Poem by June Webster

You teased our minds as we roamed
your work, wondering why a black cat
glared back in a scene with a pigeon
sporting a tube-sign eye and a butcher
selling rabbits in war-torn City of London.

We deliberated whether souls in Borough
or Covent Garden markets bought produce?
Admired the perfection of the construction,
frowned at the ambiguity of human form.
Wondered what went on in your mind.

At times while laying paint on canvas.
did rush-hour happen in your mind?
Maybe you narrated a story as characters
were placed in designated positions.
Did you smile, knowing we would?