Poem #2,739 | The Evangelist

Mike Bell/ September 23, 2023/ www.mikebellpoems.com

Cliff Richard drove a filthy
white Jag – parked up by a
back door – a teacher from
my first school stood close
& flirted – I can recall times
in nineteen seventy some-
thing – scraps of unreliable
scripts in me – I can sweep
through glossy corridors &
settle to view five decades
lost moments – a rewrite &
edit room fool – St Paul’s a
no-more-school – He sung
to us in assembly & talked
too much about his God &
we knew only who he was
& then he was off – so how
come I see his car & recall
that scene as a far viewer?

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