And so ends April

In the Year of Someone’s Lord


A time of dreams

Of nightmares

Of spectres of the past.

In thrall to death.

We hide at home

Made afraid

Of each other’s touch.

Through fear of what

We will not say.

Shut up alone

Cocooned in doubt,

And though we clap

Each week

On the appointed hour,

Each week we fear,

Our neighbour guesses

We do not believe

In angels.

One thought on “CLAPPING IN THE DARK

  1. Pingback: ABANDONED ANGELS? | Guy Farrish Writes

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