Half-Cut In The Half-Light

I did stare
when I saw
them there.

They weren’t drunk.
They weren’t asleep.

Nor were they deep
in conversation.

I don’t know where
they’d got
the deckchairs from.

This isn’t the seaside.

They sat,
side by side,
a deckchair apiece,
engrossed in mobile phone world.

I must be the bloke stumbling
through the early hours,
half-cut in the half-light,
taking swigs from a whiskey bottle
and in need of a leak.

I did stare.

We didn’t speak.