Monday’s child

Yesterday I shared draft two from my poetry masterclass. How do you like the redrafted poem, from a unfinished prose poem to a sonnet.

William Zinsser ©️

Walker in West End Lane (Draft Two)

I see you, sitting on haunches outside Cafe Nero on my way to work, hunched
against the day. Sometimes you nurse a coffee, other mornings your hands are empty. Your hair is silver and grey and your clothes are old, navy and black. Your anorak hangs as a superhero’s cloak. The dirt is ingrained to form the pattern of the darkening sky. You are always walking, a Greek hero. One day, I overhear a group of workmen talk of you. ‘His daughter died’. Was that the day that your Odyssey began, when the pavement became your bed and strangers your companions? Did you leave your house, close the door and start your journey. Did you say good-bye to anyone? Are you walking to reach your daughter? I offer a greeting when I see you, my head full of thoughts of the day, my concerns and cares. But we don’t talk. I don’t know how to help him I tell myself. Do I need to? Maybe saying good-morning is enough to remind him that we do not walk alone.

S.Abdallah ©️

Walker in West End Lane (Draft Five)

Sitting on haunches outside Cafe Nero, hunched against the day.
Sometimes you nurse a coffee, other mornings your hands are empty.
Your hair is silver and grey, your clothes are old, navy and black,
anorak that hangs as a child’s superhero’s cloak. The dirt is ingrained
to form the pattern of the leadening sky. You are always walking,
a Greek hero. I overhear a group of workmen talk of you.
His daughter died. Was that the day your Odyssey began,
when the pavement became your bed and strangers your companions?
Did you leave your house, close the door and start your journey.
Did you say good-bye to anyone? Are you walking to reach your daughter?
I offer a greeting when I see you, my head pulled to thoughts
of my labours and cares. But we don’t talk. I don’t know how to help him
I tell myself. Do I need to know? Maybe saying good-morning is enough
enough to remind us that we do not voyage alone.

S.Abdallah ©️