Friday 25 January 2019


I was unhappy with the final two lines of the previous post. I did not think that they worked as well as they could have and here is a revised draft of the poem.

At The Leechwell

Did we believe less?
Was your faith the greater?
You, who turn away,
make the sign of the cross
at the sound of the bell
as we walk to the well,
burdened as we are
by the double negative
of disease and The Fall.
Cold water,
cold morning.
No cure,
no change,
no blessing from above.
So we turn back towards the lazar house,
moving slowly through the spaces
that our lives once occupied.
I think that it is more effective than before.
Here's Anna Terheim.
Until next time.

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