In October sun on one of the benches

beside our local War Memorial,

directly opposite the new Co-op,

in mid-morning, an unknown man and woman,

dressed for outdoors and bulkily like folk

wearing many layers, are leaning together

in sleep like children, or marionettes.

Road traffic slows, pedestrians stare –

at adults kipping in seemingly clean clothes,

with brightly coloured backpacks by their sides,

before noon in a public, suburban space.

The sandstone cenotaph has last November’s

plastic poppy wreaths weathering at its base,

and among the names some still missing.

A bitter place to rest!