Deja Vu II

‘A bit of a risk, your patrician beard.’
His song went on, he hadn’t heard.
Lamentations, at St Cyril’s Gate,
near a bus stop – enlivened the wait.
Admittedly he did look weird –
might even say just plain absurd.
What he sang none of us knew,
was he Persian, Arab or Jew?
(Someone used a mobile then.)
Black, fervent eyes in olive skin:
saliva running down his chin.
Touched his arm, ‘they’re coming you know.’
He started then, but far too late –
a uniform arrived at the gate.

© Ewan Lawrie 2007