When the war is over will we go down to the water, again?
Was it like this, for Rene and Georgette Magritte
Did they walk in the park by the lake and smile
And hold hands while their world went to hell
Should we put scratchy records on the dusty machine
And dance in our underthings, or maybe something more
While the hissing records play?
How did they get so scratchy, those old discs?
Did we forget to get them out and wash them
And show our youth the glory of the covers
Did we not show the younger ones the joy?
Or, maybe, the younger ones already know
And the scratchy records are just scratchy, older people
Who have no time for what has not yet passed.
When the war is over will we go down to the waters, again?
©Copyright Stephen Tanham 2017