SILVER PAPER MEN
Your support helps us to tell the story
From reproductive rights to climate change to Big Tech, The Independent is on the ground when the story is developing. Whether it's investigating the financials of Elon Musk's pro-Trump PAC or producing our latest documentary, 'The A Word', which shines a light on the American women fighting for reproductive rights, we know how important it is to parse out the facts from the messaging.
At such a critical moment in US history, we need reporters on the ground. Your donation allows us to keep sending journalists to speak to both sides of the story.
The Independent is trusted by Americans across the entire political spectrum. And unlike many other quality news outlets, we choose not to lock Americans out of our reporting and analysis with paywalls. We believe quality journalism should be available to everyone, paid for by those who can afford it.
Your support makes all the difference.They exist in rudimentary gardens,
flourishing a cane or twirling a parasol,
all nipped-in waists, doffed hats
and little pointed shoes.
Regency bucks and belles,
they appear out of nowhere, for no reason,
leaning by a bridge or balustrade,
admiring a willow tree.
Given over to reflection,
they do nothing for a season, in pairs,
while a butterfly waits in mid-air.
That impossible basket of flowers
says all there is to say about love
in their shiny black world.
After dark, their silver paper costumes
shimmer in the light from the street.
Their flickering afterimages
stiff-leg-it round the room
in time to some tinselly tune from long ago.
For a moment, they seem to dance together.
Suddenly bashful, they hide
behind fans or dance programmes,
or turn their heads to one side.
They pass their days like this,
bowing and scraping to one another
on either side of a mantelpiece or door,
till one of them goes missing,
or crashes to the floor.
Join our commenting forum
Join thought-provoking conversations, follow other Independent readers and see their replies
Comments