Folk-Fest Poem by Roger Clark
Folk-Fest
You look quizzically
At the years gone by;
Frowning at all those
Who've joined
The slide of time;
Your pony-tail
Is longer, greyer,
And your Tilley hat
More wrinkled.
You dance inside
To bits of half-forgotten tunes,
Still eating childhood's ice cream
Or sipping beer in cups
That are disposable,
Wishing you weren't;
And so, you frown.
Wednesday, December 5, 2012
POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
An ageing 'hippy' tries to convince himself that he is not growing old and that he is still not 'out of place' in a folk festival.
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4/25/2024 8:51:04 AM # 1.0.0.1119
