Natural healing

Photo by Jozef Fehu00e9r on Pexels.com
Natural healing

Gaudily-coloured, thoughtless litter,
a twisted, traffic-soiled tree.
The neglected house
with it's burglar-challenging boarding.
A slovenly parade
of prematurely closed shops.
The pushchaired child
in a tissue thin frock
and summer wellingtons,
gawping
at a passing hearse,
its occupants
a study in collective grief.

Suddenly,
a Blackbird,
dark as jet,
with a beak
the colour of school custard,
hops down
onto a knuckled branch,
opens his throat
and sings
the first few notes
of his honeysuckle song,
lifting my soul
and I know I will make it
through another day.

All about me

Photo by cottonbro on Pexels.com
All about me

It is
an illness.
Who, in their right mind
wants to feel
like this.
And that's the point,
I'm not.

But,
it is self-centred,
my right
to feel unloved,
and unwanted.
It's all about me.

That has to change,
for the people who love me,
need me even,
for those I can help.
I have to change,
before it's too late.
%d bloggers like this: