A scattering of leaves

In the house of the greatest of charity
through the corridors, passing the sacristy,
into the chapel where up on the balcony
the Sisters of Mercy chant
prayers for me.
I sit humbly,
no coins for the offertory
a poor man in search of
a history,
in the house of the greatest of charity
I find hope in the
sisters that pray for me.
Still waters reflecting the worst of me
where the savage of time’s
not been kind to me,
in the house of the greatest of charity
St Barnabas is there
to encourage me.

© 2015, John Smallshaw.

Leave a Reply