Judy

She hears a strange whisper, the sound of a removal van, thinks is that my sisters !!! each move smoother now, no one faults her tan, every tune she’s known, she wears a woollen hair clip, the bars are full of men, happy from their last trip, they rise like ghosts to greet her, she walks the streets with them, each sea green evening, but barefoot prays alone, her dancing done, she'll miss a place to show, rather than hear the whistle, a place to call a drum, she wonders if she’s driven, if that day will come ?