The Animals
Old men in caps and waistcoats mumbling pipes Sit on the quay and stare at the empty streets; While dodging the ships across the oily water Goes the Saturday sunshine, in bright athletic feats.
And the streets are suddenly full of cattle : the sun Lights on the lip of an old man urging them on. Bunches of cows work their way through the afternoon; Mumble and wander; and are gradually gone.
Gazing I think of a winter morning; grey Policemen in greatcoats shouldering mist; the poise Of the cranes awaiting the lurch and dip of day; And my car surrounded by shapes and a blur of noise.
And on the quayside there were hundreds of sheep; The streets were bulging with sheep; the woolly mist Got under the skin of the city still asleep : Who would have dreamt that so many sheep exist?
Far from the shouting crowds the old men sit And stare at the staggering cranes : Saturday passes : Far from the land, the uncertain buildings flit Over the urban water: where the sun like a foot- baller dances.
LAURENCE D. LERNER
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