Rum Baba
In a Hampstead cafe forty-seven
years ago they waitressed together.
Now my Auckland cousin Marie's over here
mainly to see Shona while she can.
In a Melbourne cafe they reminisce:
'pastries then were seven and six!
who could afford that? - but,
when we weren't flirting with
Hampstead's handsome wealthy
young male cafe-patrons,
we could steal a Rum Baba each.
What are these costing you, Max?
Do I have cream round my mouth?
I went back on my last trip
and checked the old place out - that cafe,
still the same worn leather seats.
We humans are lasting well, though,
aren't we!' Shona has a rare
lung disease and can't walk far.
Marie plays down her cancer scares.
Me, I'm long overdue for replacement
My Rum Baba is sweet as long-lost youth.
Max Richards
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