Dreams And Plastic Smiles

The accordion player was from Eastern Europe.

He was there each morning

on the promenade in the south of Spain,

He plays popular songs

with an unremitting plastic smile.

A little further along

sits the beggar with no legs.

He is also from Eastern Europe.

He sits there every day

with an unremitting plastic smile

and a cardboard sign

written in English and Spanish.

I wonder what lit the fuse

to set them off on their incredible journey

into the unknown.

I wonder if the smiles fade on the way back

to their new homes.

I wonder if the dreams have faded

or whether they scrape along 

as the men scrape along.

Or perhaps they’re as vibrant as ever,

full of hope,

surviving in the mild winters,

ready to blossom like the cherry trees 

in the spring.



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