It was a lovely night
Some years ago when I was young,
(And so was she),
I met a woman who had met her death
By drowning as the Titanic went down.
She had not aged a great deal,
Though the salt of the sea had dried
In her hair, turning it a premature white,
And her dress had been eaten by fish, mainly cod.
She spoke of the bravery of men
And of the cowards who had pushed in front,
Of the moon and the music and the food
And of shouts and cheers and the young.
And the band played as we spoke,
And the film makers filmed what they wanted,
And we danced as the waves roared in our heads.
‘It was a lovely night’, she said.
Page(s) 28
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