Sunday afternoon has long shadows
Of couples in Queen Street;
And a sailor sits on the G.P.O. steps.
Yellow placards bleat the soft shocks
Of Sunday news.
Art-sippers sip their tea and chatter
Of Chinese philosophy on a third floor.
A taxi-driver turns his paper over
And spits meditatively.
Cold Neon signs stare glassily at urgent trams;
A policeman watches in the window
Reflections of a bicycle and a two-toned sweater.
The couples have hands locked
And the sailor has a hang-over.
The taxi-driver and the policeman
Wonder what the kids are doing;
The third floor party has Western frustration.
And yes, an Angelus is sounding!
Kenneth H. Bradshaw (1946)