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Strange Times

I met a poet in the park;

He asked me if I liked his rhymes.

I answered, ‘well, in these strange times..’

The passers-by turned heads to stare,

But none amongst them seemed to care.

As daytime drifted into dark,

I left him seated, looking low.

What happened next, I do not know.

🌷(9)

◄ She danced

Train ►

Comments

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Stephen Gospage

Thu 6th Jan 2022 21:38

Thanks, John. I'll take your advice for now.

Thanks for the like, Mike.

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John Coopey

Thu 6th Jan 2022 17:23

We should start a club. Each of us should finish off another's poem. Not this one, though; it's best left hanging.

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Stephen Gospage

Thu 6th Jan 2022 16:15

Stephen and John, thank you for your comments. I think both positions are valid and it is fascinating to see how different people view a poem. It's true that there is no conclusion; the last line is open-ended. One might say that the emphasis is on the current strange times rather than the unfortunate park poet, but what happened to him? Perhaps we should be told. I'm thinking of how to resolve this one...

And many thanks to Nigel, Tom, KJ, Holden, Jimakos and Moonlight for the likes.

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John Botterill

Wed 5th Jan 2022 20:07

Intriguing! In my mind he had mental health problems... perhaps the genius of the poem is that we don't know... let's the reader decide.
Thanks Stephen.

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Stephen Atkinson

Wed 5th Jan 2022 18:22

Brilliantly succinct. & leaves you wanting to know what happened next.
I reckon, he wasn't really there
That's why no one seemed to care...

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