Posted by: John Looker | 25 November, 2015

Mr Julian’s Secret

Confident voice; confident suit;
his father’s watch on his grandfather’s chain;
and a tiny key he would sometimes insert
in a little drawer you might discern
in his great grandfather’s desk.
Mornings were best. He still looked forward
to reading the post and would like to discuss
dreams with the few whom he favoured.
Luncheons had gone, but he’d learnt to prize
the afternoons as a quiet oasis
for his letters (laboriously copied) to the Press;
that and mentoring a fresh young face.

© John Looker 2015

This is the sixth in a suite of eight daily poems that tell us about a group of people who work together. All is not as it seems. The first poem, which set the scene, was posted at:


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