Tombstones of Saint Peter and Paul

The bird flew with one wing and flew in small circles.

The bird’s eye view was the best world view 

When both wings flapped their bests

When she soared much higher in the open skies

When heaven was not the earth 

When it fell, the plumage littered

They worked together

I saw them every morning on my way to work

One was urbane and neatly dressed, 

He was open and had inclusive Jesus inscription 

Partly covered by his ‘huddie’.

The other was the opposite, 

Rough and hard, both in demeanour and choice of clothes, 

Yet young, with cigarette lit and clipped 

between his pale left fingers.

They worked well together; same factory, perhaps.

I walked to catch the 6:47 train to London, 

They would walk home off the 6:38 train to London.

I never get to Grays for that earlier train to London

But we will always meet on the footpath 

Along the tombstones 

of St Peter and Paul Church. 

They ignored me

And it was difficult getting used to it

Not being greeted

Or not greeting others 

At a lonely and narrow path. 

Today He walks alone

I see him every morning on my walk alone

No longer with any urbane and neatly dressed bloke,

No friend with inclusive Jesus inscription

Neither covered in black ‘huddie’.

The bird flew with both wings and soared up the skies.

The bird’s eye view was the best world view 

When both wings flapped their bests

Heaven came to earth when both wings flapped

When colours filled our open minds skies

When love was the colour of life

The bird flew with one wing and flew in small circles.

The bird’s eye view was the best world view 

When both wings flapped their bests

When she soared much higher in the open skies

Listening and Creative Communications 

Leonard Chintua-Chigbu

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