Chelsea Green

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Chelsea Green kisses the last of the summer
The waiters’ eternal optimism sets tables al fresco
Jaunty actresses of a certain age buy croissants and cashmere
And three old friends talk of things past and of things to come.

They are not friends of mutuality
They are friends one to another to another
Each knows more than the other about one another
But none of them knows what all three know.

Two friends eat fishes from the same sea
They laugh over its name and its murky past
One friend makes his own choices as he has always done
Two friends drink the wine, but they are not two friends.

They are two friends out of three
They meet at a bridge
The bridge makes his own choices
And the actresses buy croissants and cashmere nearby.

The two friends who are not friends talk of cashmere and beauty
They all talk of passion of talent and of laziness and greed
They all wish things were different now
But each thinks of what different might be for them.

The music beats in the hearts of the friends
The drums beat three different rhythms
From time to time the drums beat in time
From time to time their hearts beat in time

Two friends want to make him happy
They want the same for him, but not the same for each of them
One is a friend of a friend
But on Chelsea green they are all friends.

One friend wishes things were different
He skirts and flirts and dances without stirring
The other friends laugh at his dance
They do not see how his feet skip and trip and glide and turn.

Three friends talk but their thoughts fly
They kiss, they caress, each their own fondest desires
The sun slants a warm look over the three faces
And the sun smiles and knows what all three know.

Three friends part on Chelsea green
The waiters set out the stall for the next play
New actors, new themes, new hearts
And the actresses admire their cashmere and eat their crossants in the last of the summer sun.

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