AND THE SMALL BOY

there, in the front pew
dressed in his Sunday suit
grieving his grandmother
wearing her silver cross
shaking, wrecked by it all
and I think, poor little bastard
as I watch him drowning
rivers of tears
rivers and rivers
becoming a flood

Published by colinhopkirk

Poet, writer, artist. Writing and performing in England, publishing anywhere. Member of Hexameter performing poets. Workshops, projects, cross-arts collaborations.

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