I think that in the title of this new poem I have invented a new collective noun.

A Comfort of Aunties

There will always be those

White haired ladies,

Angry in a lilac cardigan.

They are the ones to watch,

Bitter, twisted, politically astute.

They are rebellion, protest,

Resistance in your face.

They are just stop oil, XR,

Pagan vegan anarchist hunt sabs.

They are the battles of Newbury, and Twyford Down,

Greenham Common, CND, Bob Dylan

Me too Black Lives Matter

Martin Luther King.

Reclaim the City

Reclaim the Streets

Reclaim the night

Another world is possible

Because there will always be those

White haired ladies,

Angry in a lilac cardigan.