Michael Shepherd Poems

Wol’s nephew had found a piece of torn paper in the Wood, which said ‘Truth is…’ and took it back, rather wet and smudgy, to Wol.

Word got around that Wol’s nephew, who was learning to read, had asked Wol what came next… However, most of the Animals were not very interested, as they went about their busy lives.
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When that strange stirring to a poem comes -
half-heard, half-formed, some seed deep in the mind -
the heart lights up, so eager to explore
the unknown path that listening may find:
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She was not yet really 'known' -
but asked to read by this small group
of older Jewish refugees and eager youngsters,
talent destined for a fame,
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Friday mornings:

As I follow Eric the barber to the pay counter,
feeling scraped and trimmed and scented and almost younger,
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I’d been reading some poems with
– for the first time in my life that I remember –
‘a lump in my throat’; and a pricking in my eyes,
and a sense of the awesome power of that poet
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‘As dust we are beneath Thy chariot wheel, O Lord;
Yet find the hub, and all Thy dust is gold…’
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I’ve never owned a teddy bear (aw…)

my parents read the child-rearing bibles
of the time, maybe that’s what it was
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She so loved Him
was so beloved of Him
that He spoke to her and said
my beloved
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He’ll be the next to go.
In the Condemned Block, over many years,
he’s moved up the line; now he’s got that end cell.
All legal processes have been tested.
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