He came to me mid-afternoon,
a frosty day, the sunshine weak,
twig filtered light, skeletal branch,
bare bones undressed, the awkward joints
not camouflaged, thick foliage.
Disciple of uncertainty,
he came in mood, confessional,
not by me judged, found-wanting creed –
surprised to find self-reassured,
as journeyed over common ground.
The judgement lies where judgement made –
for questions from enquiring mind
are threatening to black law book bound;
though word – unbind and let him go –
is theme of good news, lakeside-shared.
Stephen Kingsnorth, (Cambridge M.A., English & Religious Studies), retired to Wales from ministry in the Methodist Church (following the onset of Parkinson’s Disease), has had pieces accepted by Nine Muses Poetry; Voices Poetry; Eunoia Review; Runcible Spoon; Ink Sweat and Tears; The Poetry Village; Amethyst Review; Softblow Literary Journal; From the Edge; Soul Lit.; Sparks of Calliope; Gold Dust, The Seventh Quarry, Allegro & The Dawntreader Poetry Magazines. https://poetrykingsnorth.wordpress.com/