Poem By Brad Evans

walking along the footpath
her B&W portrait

by the side of the road...

I stop to take it all in
and realise

that what had been on her mantelpiece
for most of her life

was now waiting
for the bin collection.

I look to my right
her house now empty and up for sale.

I glance back at the portrait
and see a young, beautiful woman in the photo

her hair
in 1940 buns

her eyes sparkling
and full of


and wishes.

did she have a family or are they all gone now?

I start walking again,
my trivial thoughts stolen by her portrait

now left
by the side of the road

now waiting
for the bin collection.

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I tell a work colleague near me: