LOCAL
POETRY

Doreen Noonan

West Norwood Voices

Part 2

'Private Moments'

Like a bird on a branch
Perched high on a tree
he sits in a stare
dewy-eyed in a dream

He bows and he prays
in his new-found shrine
to a square-faced god
framed dark, dark in a case

pressing any button
his heart all afloat
as the computer screen
flashes bright red and a green

It makes an awful rumble
and a sharp-pitched grumble
that puts him all asunder!

'Oh how now I wish instead
a good book I'd read'

As the screen grows cold
his brow's in a sweat –
what next?

'Everybody out'
a voice rings out
'the library is now closed'

Head bent low
He shuffles through the door
to the cold grey street
where he was before