Bygone Stage of Empire

Onto this ephemeral stage,
come the players. Hiding their closed characters,
dressed down in grey,

pale as the shadow of the magnolia,
unscented and ill-defined.
Dim as the fog of nostalgia,

they preen with restless energy,
dowdy feathers blended with distracting plumage:
dark emptiness in their soul but not their purse.

Grey arms reach into a void:
misappropriated as a space unbounded,
but the flaking bunker of charlatans.


(c) Andrew Halsall Smith, 2018
[see Author's note for more information] 

Honest Directions

Mama never went to college
but she had wit and wisdom undefined,
a trolley of everyday knowledge
that she would shyly disappear behind.

Mama was walking through the city
when a group of students stopped to ask directions:
"How can we get to the University?"
they politely asked at the intersection.

Mama answered - sharp, succinct, precise -
and caught these intellectuals off-guard.
They grinned respect for her mature advice:
"You must study hard, folks, study hard!"


(c) Andrew Halsall Smith, 2018