Art Deco Child
Musing over re-incarnation
At times I feel re-incarnated.
Images come to my mind’s eye
when I hear Glenn Miller music.
Smoky dance-halls, lines of girls,
uniforms and growing up. . . fast.
Easy times in Art Deco cities.
Climbing Clarice Cliff trees
resplendent in primary colours.
Candy-box houses filled with windows
stained with angular patterns.
Streets populated with Airflow cars
driven by double-breasted suits
with turn-ups and razor-sharp creases.
The company of bob-cut ladies.
Travelling on trains
pulled by idealized locos
puffing cotton wool smoke.
And I wonder why these memories
feel cut-off in a sudden. . . .
and why the drone of a high-flying B-29
brought irrational fear when I was five-years old.