Charity

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