Sealed in at Wroxeter

Inspired by a visit to Wroxeter, home to some of my ancestors, in Shropshire  (August 2018), and composed in a Prado Lounge Café Bar in Suffolk.
Box Pews at a church in Selattyn, Shropshire

Doors click open.
Let me in and
latch me in,
keeping me
seated.
Listening.

The Vicar steps up,
announces himself,
boxes himself in and
shouts
The Word –
His Word.

I listen
to myself –
thoughts
bouncing back
at me from
varnished wood.

Dead trees –
now breathing.

Copyright of text and photograph owned by Jay Cool, September 2018

Published by The Silly-Savvy Salopian

Freelance writer and descendant of the cave dweller and outlaw, Humphrey Kynaston. Banished from Shropshire for my eccentricity, I have made my home in Suffolk. I write poetry, short stories, travel journals, comedy gig reviews and non-fiction articles. My wish is to write my way back into the heart of my birth land. All writing commissions (and free holidays in Shropshire!) considered.

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