i live about forty miles from London in a place called Basingstoke, Hampshire. I have published some seven collections of poetry and have about a thousand poems floating around the web. But more important to me is if someone I don't know were to send me an email telling me they were moved by my work.
Today the beggar
who sits in the street on his sleeping bag in the rain was on the bench.
He looked like he was waiting for something.
Then a young girl came along with a pie and a coffee.
She gave it to him.
I turned and looked at her face;
it was filled with wellbeing --
but my thoughts were with him:
what a lucky bastard, I thought.
An old brown suitcase lies on the floor
it has one word on it
I look at it for a while
then my thumbs feel the catches that will open
it and let me see into somebody else's life.
Photos of birthday parties and weddings
will hang in the air
Tell stories of people I do not know.
Show that people lived
Tell you of others in the only way that they can.
I look at the case for a long time before I decide
to let the story
be left untold
©2016 Marc Carver