Jill Thomson

Beauly Highlands, UK

Jill Thomson’s poems have been published in various magazines. Retired, she runs a poetry appreciation group at a local arts centre in Inverness.

Poem written 16th May 2020

Mourning Service 2020

The woman in front is shivering from the bone-

chilling cold  - I wish they’d open the doors.

He ushers us in one at a time; to sit two rows apart

either side of the aisle, as you would at weddings.

I follow the rest      at a respectful distance,

          a wet tissue scrunched in my pocket.

The wooden doors slam shut behind me,

apologetic steps tiptoe into the back pew.

A yellow splash of gorse offends the austere:

the stonework dank, the air hymnic.

He’s sitting in the front row staring straight ahead

as still as that statue of the Virgin Mary,

his grey hair curls over the damp raincoat

             I ache to touch it.

In a different version of this I would have

wandered into someone else’s grief.

Afterwards we’ll emerge into the bitter wind  

to walk home together  -   silent and apart.

I