The man had ebullient hair
So vibrant, thick and wind-swept
James Dean, Elvis-quiffed brilliance
“Hair envy?”
“No.” Yes, he thought sourly
Dressed all in black. Black boots, black turtle neck, black trousers, black brolly clutched in hand, like Sir Lancelot wielding his sword, if rain were to attack this would be the chap to turn to. If you look closely he even has a micro pin, stuck in his very black tie
The man paced with purpose, head bobbing to the rhythm of some internal monologue
This offbeat John Steed, Beat-inspired Warhol, into the breach he goes, holding a Homeland DVD box set, thinking this format is retro
“I’ve still got a VHS you know, a typewriter and a four track, but I digress.”
The man, sweet-faced innocence, tinged with experience, is gone. A ghost of youth, in these dusty streets of our childhood
Karen
Michael
Craig
You’re still here, I can hear you, see you climbing my back wall, taking your BMX for a spin. Forever young and brilliant
Funny how things turn on a six pence this world of existence. All existing now and always
Copyright John de Gruyther 2018
For Karen and Mike
For Craig (You burn brightly in my memories)
The World Outside the Window 
Hello! Delighted to read your poem.
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That’s lovely John, brought a lump to my throat!
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Thanks! I didn’t set out to write about our childhood but it just went that way. A nostalgic surprise.
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A ghost of youth, in these dusty streets of our childhood – love that line. 😃
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Thank you…
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