Blind Girl

2 November, 2016. East Kent.

Two polished pine pews in front of me

The straight-backed girl stands patiently

Flanking her, the withered ladies

Bent forward with their burden of years

Gossip and titter and drink this girl in

Sparrows and finches on a blackened limb.

Pretty head nodding like a parcel shelf toy

Sightless eyes wheeling with private joy

Raking rafters and vaulted stone

She travels who knows where alone.

Plaster angels smile down on her

As she swirls the altar rail’s tide

Motley worshippers feel inside bigger

With this pale girl at their side.

Bright buds jostle on the winter-bare tree
Blind girl you see more than me.