Charity Poem by Sheena Blackhall

On the churchyard bench
I opened my sandwich lunch
Having passed and avoided two beggars
The benches sit in an arc
The dead lie prim behind
Looking up from their modesty boxes

On the far edge, the gaunt faced beggars
Slump into the wooden slats
Wall eyed human skeletons
The stuffing knocked out of the them
The wind sucked from their sails

A crow hopped over the gravel
An undertaker bird in mournful feathers
Hungry, demanding, needing to be fed

He squared right up to me
He had me in his sights
A small Svengali
Naturally, I granted his request