English poetry

Poems in English


Work

I caught rumours of some internal hearing
Then you appeared with tears squeezing your eyes,
Hands scrunched up like a child’s, rice paper skin.
That work mates complained was a big surprise
As you were office sunshine, shafted no-one,
And turned your quick mind to the broadest cause.
But there you were, a whisper finished…gone,
Scooping reams of data from cabinet drawers,
Your kiddie snaps stacked face-down on the desk
And none of us sat safe enough to speak.
That night I helped a cleaner bin the mess.
Our chief would hire a temp inside the week
So I kept back your tissues as a wee bequest.
Sometimes I think I should have wiped your cheek.

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Poem Work - Chris Jones