At the King David
If you retire you’re dead. That’s what Shimon
Peres said to Tony Blair, who’d just
flown in from China to Jerusalem.
How do I know? Because I was there.
How do you do it, Shimon? TB asked.
His face looked grey. Peres seemed to shine –
he was somewhere over eighty at the time.
Becoming President still lay ahead.
I looked out from the sixth floor at the view
of the Old City sparkling like a gun.
Blair was still PM. The two men smiled.
Old friends. Or at least old politicians.
Tony must have got the message – after all
since leaving Number 10 he hasn’t stopped.
So I can say I personally witnessed
the moment that particular penny dropped.
This poem originally appeared in Tom Vaughan's Envoy, a
pamphlet published by HappenStance.
If you have any comments on this poem, Tom Vaughan would be pleased
to hear from you.