Snippet – poetry

I saw her again today. The young woman of India-Indian descent. And, I think, her dad – or someone she knows. He has a gentle smile and looks fragile. I’d been thinking of doing a poem with a common last line thread of “By the Grace of God go I”.

Might as well start it.

I think I’ll call this one “By the Grace of God Go I”

I’m standing at the corner

And there’s a girl over yonder

Who’s talking to herself, occasionally a laugh, not a holler

A woman next to me

Decides to talk of what she sees

As the potential lowering down of the neighbourhood

I wonder what she would


If she knew I was also mentally ill?

But she can’t tell, because I present well

Waiting for the Eastbound bus like her, standing still?

I look again across at the girl over yonder

And I ponder

By the Grace of God Go I…


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