English Hill

Come with me to St Matthews cemetery
a flock of culpability
What are red faces for ?
The incidence of pious Rosetta
At the graves edge
he was returned
An avalanche of prayers
omits forgiveness 
A life unworthily lived
unmatching the reverend 

The bats resume their business
The uneasiness of the pews
Feathers are the sinews of hope
Their curved plumage
thinks well of an English Hill
Copyright © | Year Posted 2023

Poem

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