Live Simply

Where in the head is the place
for remembered images that torture
the memory and dreams.

Of places you’ve been where people
attract flies to their open wounds,

where the leg-less sit
to beg and wait in the searing heat
for someone to put them in the shade
or do they drag themselves on their

Places where the rich and criminals have
no needs, but the poor have no way
to healthcare or foodbanks.

Where do these recollections go,
so that you can cope
with going to the supermarket or having a
meal in a restaurant with friends, choosing
from a menu?

But if we do not recall
we will not live simply,
so that others may
simply live.

Published in The Lark

By Chrisssie Morris Brady

I've read poetry since I was nine and have written creatively since I was fourteen (probably long before that). After writing book reviews and social comment, I decided I wanted to write poetry. I have no formal training, but I surround myself with poets and their writing. I am honing my craft.
I have two published collections which I don't feel good about, but have been published by and other publications. I live on the south coast of England with my daughter. I am seriously ill.

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