It’s a party in Trafalgar Square,
chaperoned by expectant Vermeers
in the National Gallery after
sponge cake from the crypt
at St. Martin’s in the Fields,
and a percussion band is rocking
on the stage, swaying the crowd
like reeds in the wind. We dance
around the column, the band is
that good and from Brooklyn,
of all places, as traffic swirls its way
from the Strand to the Mall,
but still we dance, risking
the inevitably disapproving stare
from the man atop the column.
Photograph: The band Red Barat playing at the Mayor of London’s party in Trafalgar Square, celebrating the end of the Paralympics and the Olympics, September 2012.
"Swaying the crowd like reeds in the wind..." I felt that image. Excellent poem Glynn!
Loved your imagery, Glynn! Felt like I was right there in the crowd.
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