The Only Beauty

The shops look all the same to me. plastic human models with no heads are placed in the windows showing us how we might look if we bought the latest fashions. People walk, by dropping paper and cans some look at me,most don’t I’m invisible now ,I’m a ghost. I haunt my familiar spaces the library green and the path by the pond The phone shops tempt us with larg notices: Only £39 per month for the best the latest,the new maps and locations faster access to email and photos. Look here I am,another selfie. The only beauty is a pigeon in the sun and a black man with gentle,luminous eyes smiling at me as he sweeps away the paper tossed down by the blinded people who jabber beside the coffee shop.