Talking Silk
Surrounded
by bag carrying colleagues, a KC
in
long wig, black knee breeches and stockings
strode
behind me on Fetter Lane one March afternoon.
Out
of the corner of my eye, it was as if
I’d
slipped centuries, back to when the fire
in
a city bakery was nothing of concern.
Reality
was plain from his post-lockdown beard,
salted
with necessary gravitas.
Then
another, flanked by her parents and pushing
a
buggie, hands through new lace cuffs
as
she guided her child in the right direction.
Law
in the streets on silk day –
the
randomness I love about London.