The Pearly Gates.(Poem)

 
THE PEARLY GATES 
 
   Companionably, they stand around, 
   the parents--mothers and just the odd father-- 
   as if they were waiting outside a theatre 
   or some sports ground, 
 
   beside the open gate and the low brick wall 
   at the school. They come here every day 
   during the week, and always find things to say, 
   seeming for all 
 
   appearances like old friends with as much 
   in common as the members of a club 
   gathered convivially around a tub, 
   instead of such 
 
   utter strangers to each other that few 
   can even guess at the occupations 
   of those they join in conversations. 
   If they just knew 
 
   that this brief acquaintance could be stretched 
   out over many years, less through their own 
   impulses than from contacts which will have 
   grown 
   after they've fetched 
 
   children from parties and matches often 
   enough to embark upon those friendships 
   which resemble the odd relationships 
   formed to soften 
 
   the hardness of an army camp or jail, 
   then they might take a more immediate 
   liking to each unlikely fellow-inmate; 
   they would not fail 
 
   to be intrigued sooner by details 
   of the regime followed by the fireman, 
   solicitor, dentist, physician, 
   men's clothing sales- 
 
   man or unemployed Canadian 
   geologist who stands beside them. 
   Concealed among such ...