Monday 30 August 2021

Intimate Strangers


A ward full of bleeps,
Your weary, half-formed mumbles,
A different faith;
It was hard work to hear your soul.
AlI I heard were snatches, really -
The best we could manage.
But in that wasteland place
Even snatches count for something.
And your snatches touched my soul.
Thank you.
Rest in peace.

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