Through the window I see the protester
Clearly, he is an angry elderly man,
Part of the worked-up crowd
Blocking and surrounding our van.
He brandishes a printed sign saying:
"We Are Angry" -- the letters yellow
And the background bright red, and I
Wonder whether to tell the fellow
That he's holding it upside-down,
But I don't, and just watch instead
His placard waved inverted,
An old man's excitement and anger fed
By indignation, then converted
Into action, and surely higher blood
Pressure, at this crux of confrontation
Performed for the ranks of reporters
And cameras, drawn to the situation.
And then it's done, he retreats
With all the others, demonstration
Complete, the placards are collected,
He disappears into the streets.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment