I looked up

I looked up

office workers, wives and mothers,

oven-ready students, white van drivers,

the out of work, and labourers,

shuffle mesmerised, eyes down focussed

on Insta-WhatsApp pet cat posts

lost souls, sighing silently,

herd their head-down

weary rut-way home

to brawling kids,

and supper on the sofa

on holiday in Greece or Spain

they traipse pavement signs

from where they are

to the sepulchre

of Saint Somebody (or other)

roll back to summer 74;

a breezy esplanade, Scarborough,

as I recall, hillside ranks

of remembrance benches packed

with shoulder to shoulder pensioners

legs spread flaunting bloomers

powder blue or blushing pink

matching their specially

tinted coiffures

as I walked towards to the beach

I stared at my feet - I dared not risk

eye-contact with the ranks of clutching

‘kiss me quick’ Medusas blowing kisses

though petrified I  could not resist

a sight I might well live to regret

I turned around -

I looked up.