Twirly

Tram stops Old lady asks "Am I twirly?"
Conductor looks up tram and shakes his head
On she gets and on we go

As a young lad on the way to school
I often wondered how old one had to be
To be Twirly

Three stops on the way were always empty
Three stops in a row
Trams all stopped

The area was bombed out
No complete houses stood
No one ever asked why they stopped

It made me proud to ride
With folks like that
Twirly or not

Reviews

[Gandré]

Ha! This was interesting observation; twirl - seems not to be matter of age, it is matter of awareness, isn't it? Then I read in the 3rd stanza, your association with the past, amazing how we connect and re-connect. Can't wait what I'll be re-connected once when getting older and if I would see my traumatizing moments less traumatic? Perhaps, an indissoluble question. This left me with thoughts; interesting, and individual work.

[Ron]

Blimey Don you seem to come from London. I know these "Am I too early?" (Twirly) pensioners. Salt of the Earth? Definitely! Win the war? Thanks to them yes. Like all of your work this poem is subtle the work of a craftsman! Get them published!