Rob We Filled St. Mary's Poem by Adrian Flett

At the memorial service of a friend,
Richmond 22 January 1991



Rob we filled St Mary's
spilled into the chancel
and the choir.
In the gentle rain, others.

Sweat sticky thighs
stuck to pews
were cooled
when singing we stood.

Deaf old ladies
smiled, shuffled, sniffed
and stage whispered
across the aisle

While young were
gaudy tied
slicked and jounced,
out of place.

The vicar's voice,
raised above impious hadedas,
spoke of love and service
to the district.

While some women, remembering
love and service of a specific sort
wept surreptitiously
beside cuckolded husbands.


You lived your life
out in the open;
now we, heads bowed,
examine ours in tight secrecy.