crisis of faith
Can I still a warrior be?
kind hearted
© Rachel Green August 2025
While walking to the doctor's yester morn
to book a slot as I was asked to make
(the forty minute walk's a quicker way
than the phone-appointment waiting queue will take)
I pass a Rhus Typhinia on the pavement
with leaves reminding me of times long gone
when I, a child, lived on fond engagement
at my parental home in Birmingham.
The neighbour, Mr Leadbetter, had bought
the house new-built upon the farm next door
when Mrs Morris with illness was fraught
and moved into some housing for the poor.
My father loathed him and his sumac tree
and I hated his kids, who bullied me.
© Rachel Green August 2025
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