Night Piece
Three men came talking up the road
And still 'tomorrow' was the word.
The night was clear with the lamp's glitter
The first man spoke and his voice was bitter
"Tomorrow like another day
I draw the dole and rust away."
The second one said scared and low,
"Tomorrow I may have to go."
And the two spoke never another word
But drew together and looked at the third.
And the third man said "If tomorrow exists
It's a day of streets like rivers of fists.
It's the end of crawling, the end of doles,
And men are treated as human souls."
I stood in the doorway and heard these things
As the three came past with the step of kings.
--John Manifold, 1928
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