'Poem: A Friend reads Psalm 139 in Meeting' by Lucy Crispin
I sit in a different seat today.
Cutting it fine, Friends slip in,
join the deepening stillness.
The crunch of tyres on gravel,
a door-tongue carefully released,
the known slow tap of ferrule on floorboard:
the small sounds stir the silence
which settles again, as water over a pebble
or a shaken sheet drifting down;
like heat on spread limbs
after the breeze has dropped.
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