Rose Up

The Tyrant called me
late one night  and
asked me to come
and talk of roses.
Which I did because you
did not turn him down.

We sat down together
and I talked to this man,
who waded through history,
of flowers and soil and rain.
He had the peasant view
that roses are a rich
person's flower so
was eager to prove himself.

A year later he wanted to talk
about water, and how to move it
around his grounds.
There were more security men
at that time because
he was under threat.

Months later he wanted to
talk of grapes but
I think that really he
just wanted to talk to me.
Called me "Dear Doctor" at the greeting
and said that
I was the only one who
told the truth and was not scared.
He did not know that I had to
burn my clothes after every meeting.

Only afterwards did I think
That I could have told him about
roses at the end of grape rows.
That act in an early warning role.
But that would not have helped him
because by then
his head was on a pole.

Square Deal

I have my seat,
where I can see
but not be seen.
I am categorising people
as they arrive for a concert
in the square and I like
how they mix and flow.
Here are some men in their 50's
arms crossed over bellies
ducking and weaving as they
recite best loved stories.
They help a young mother with her pram
who has split off from a group
of teenage girls who look
casually fabulous, if a little uniform.
Three teenage boys walk past
and there is enough
sliding eye contact to
start a forest fire.
A mother and daughter
seem to be using sign language
but then see the father
and the son who come
over from the Hot Rods.
The son smiles cheesily and
talks to the daughter
who turns her back on him
but smilingly.
While the parents shake their heads
in unison.
It is important to
see all this, to realise
that people can still get along.
At this time the sun
and  music have
worked for them.
Because there is not much
that does that these days.
Not much to bind
when the major push in society
is for individuals
at the expense
of us all.