“Living is wonderful, the world is so full of surprises. While wandering in West Wales I came upon the perimeter of a waste site. The person overseeing the site had collected dumped, unwanted child
ren's toys. My friend, the poet John Fuller, wrote a poem about this picture.” – David Hurn Where is Happy Lion? Mr Toad? Where is drunk Dolly of the knitted legs? Or Sleepybones whose eyelids always showed The one side of their moon, as smooth as eggs? Where is Jezebel, whose startling head Was crusty with the glue that wept her hair? Where are those royal sitters-up-in-bed That only yesterday were nodding there? Banished for ever, or else left behind, And no one comes for them, nor ever will. Threadbare, stitched-up, hang-dog, button blind, This dumb identity-parade is still Looking for those lost fingers that were kind And the winds are blowing rubbish down the hill.
© David Hurn | Magnum Photos
Commission a Magnum photographer
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