Wednesday, November 2, 2016

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.


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