Down stucco sidestreets, <br />Where light is pewter <br />And afternoon mist <br />Brings lights on in shops <br />Above race-guides and rosaries, <br />A funeral passes. <br /> <br />The hearse is ahead, <br />But after there follows <br />A troop of streetwalkers <br />In wide flowered hats, <br />Leg-of-mutton sleeves, <br />And ankle-length dresses. <br /> <br />There is an air of great friendliness, <br />As if they were honouring <br />One they were fond of; <br />Some caper a few steps, <br />Skirts held skilfully <br />(Someone claps time), <br /> <br />And of great sadness also. <br />As they wend away <br />A voice is heard singing <br />Of Kitty, or Katy, <br />As if the name meant once <br />All love, all beauty.<br /><br />Philip Larkin<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/dublinesque/
