A Meeting

A literary society
Bent on revering a poet,
The forgotten man of words,
Worried me a little.

After ten minutes or so
Two gentlemen arrived
Sporting suitable attire
Dressed in gear,
Which was less shiny than I imagined.
Woollen socks, corduroy trousers, leather boots, tweed cap.
The cagoule was bagged;
A blue aluminium stick was on show,
Jutting from a hand,
Indicating that I had not driven through time,
But the Downs of Southern England.


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