Guilt by Hilary Walker

She has taken up residence inside my pocket
a second appendix
like a squatter
or a gypsy encampment sitting smug
while the neighbours rage.
 
I should be able to move her on easily
serve an eviction order
24 hours and gone
but we’re attached now
an afterbirth at the christening.
 
She is hungry.
She feeds on frazzled conscience
even as I sleep.
 
Friends help to find another way;
walk down another street
change direction
sing a different song.
 
Moving on through deep wild nights,
crossing the fields and furrows
I take the long way home
finally hearing the voice in my head repeating loud and clear
‘mea culpa’
 
Now she’s closer
invading new mindful spaces.
 
Her velvet cloak glows in the darkness
as she holds on tightly to my hands.
 
She is relentless.
 
I lie down in the attic and glimpse the fresh free day through the skylight
as she covers me.

Comments   

0 #2 Lynn Walton 2021-09-21 12:29
Powerful stuff, Hilary. Some wonderful phrases..."an afterbirth at the christening"
Well done
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0 #1 PHILIP Burton 2021-09-10 14:05
Very haunting poem. I will re-read it. Well done.
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