Innocents Abroad

On stage of this world’s stage we see the play
of poems, songs and laughter—nobler view
than groundlings with their beer or tourists who
find rain to usher homeward from the Globe

and next day, gazing down from Greenwich train
we sigh at houseyards’ laundry, weeds and junk—
forgetting cities live and pulse and breathe
beyond the graystone, ancient sites we trek
with weary feet and spinning, weary minds


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