No, let’s not look at the old photographs any more:
our hair was so full and shiny then, and anyway
we can’t tell all those babies apart now.
And who was the woman in the lace blouse
sitting on our sofa, with that basilisk stare?
I don’t remember ever seeing her before.
Let’s put the albums back on the shelf
and settle down with that serial killer thing on TV.
That always cheers us up.
The post Don’t Look Back appeared first on The Spectator.
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