On this bench dedicated to E.F.Hawksworth
by his wife Lucinda 1983
these youths have no respect.
The girl is on her haunches -
the boy like a raven shrouds her,
both shrunken by drugs.
The bench of bleached oak stands as testament -
to what who knows,
who now cares?
A small patch of cleared earth
awaits the gesture of spring bulbs,
looking impossibly lost.