A Quiet Evening

A quiet evening at home, with friends.
Drinking coffee and reciting poetry.
One, who’s unable to attend, sends
sincere apologies. Another absentee.

There are only seven of us, and not ten,
raring to go: my wife, Ramez and June
plus Gary, myself, Yvonne and Ken.
This session cannot begin too soon.

Everyone’s come with their collections
of their favourite authors and rhyme
depicting dark moods and reflections
or lamenting the passing of time.

The choices are varied, esoteric;
there is Jewish poetry and Arabic,
classic and modern; nothing generic,
but all very vibrant and dynamic.

My wife, with great passion and fire,
reads from ‘101 Poems against war’,
I select one of mine, a short satire,
and preen on being asked for an encore.

A topical composition about Baghdad
steers the conversation to new topics.
We wonder if the world has gone mad
due to religious zeal or extreme politics.

We concede it is a complete mystery
and finally we reach no firm conclusion
on how to solve the self-inflicted misery
short of a radical and global revolution.

This enjoyable social intercourse
regrettably, but inevitably, now ends.
There will be many more, of course.
You can be sure of that, dear friends.

© Luigi Pagano