The chanting drowned the city noise,
Challenged the busy town.
The marchers stopped, formed lines,
But the busy town rolled on.
They held their banners high,
The chant in the hot sun swelled,
But the city passed by.
Still the marchers shouted and walked,
Talked and chanted in the broiling sun,
Then they lowered their banners,
Sat down, hugged their knees,
And lounged in the circling shadows of trees.
Some twenty police on the grass
Loosened jackets and ties,
Relaxed, took their ease
In their own circling shadows.
A few, it is true, stood in whispering
Knots on the streets. But for the time
The march had paused, so they
Chatted and joked. There was no need,
Now to break banners or limbs.
They stretched and yawned -
The marchers would soon disperse,
They would go home. The sun
Absorbed the heat; the fun
Was over - for better or for worse.
©Terry Hodgson2020
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