Tomorrow, as well as being Remembrance Sunday in England, etc., it's 20 years since the Berlin Wall came down - and, about 21 years ago, I went...
Poem 17 of 230: THROUGH WHAT WAS
During Europe's summer, '88, At a wall my bag was checked: A brief smile at what gave it weight; Sun-cream lid back - mood unwrecked. I walked past plain buildings and cars, And entered a small food-store. Its goods were plain, also: no sweet bars; The essentials - not much more. As I bought crispbread, with money changed, A row began, at counter, Between two, it seemed, Germans estranged - Clothes, to me, the sole pointer. I headed back through the wall that was, Then signed a reunion book. Reflecting, I'm happy/sad because The Left-cause, too, has been shook.