12. Jun, 2020

'The Smudger's Monkey'

Oh, I remember him!
To hold the little capuchin
In his baby's pink knit
Cuddled into my yellow dress
Was the ultimate bliss.
I must have begged
To stop along the promenade,
In Scarborough, or Brid,
A seaside photographer
And his pricey enticements
So rarely indulged in
By those native East Coasters,
My grandparents,
Ensconced for the summers
In their static caravan,
Stately, in Hornsea.

Ruth Enright