Upon an Upturned Bench at Kenilworth Marsh: poem by Alan Abrams

image by Adrian Campfield, on Pixabay

Upon an Upturned Bench at Kenilworth Marsh 

“…with a bobolink for a chorister 

and an orchard for a dome.” 

~ Emily Dickinson, “Some keep the Sabbath going to Church” 

It’s beastly hot for man if not for beast, 

where I teeter on an upturned bench 

(its seat is now its back, its back, its seat) 

and gaze across the swollen marsh, as 

an egret stalks the shallows— 

strikes—shakes—swallows. 

Swifts skim the mirror surface 

in pursuit of insects unseen. 

Omen clouds conglomerate, 

distant thunder mumbles. 

Drizzle turns the pond to lace, 

and the temperature tumbles 

for beast and man alike. In no rush 

am I to quit my precarious perch, 

upon this tottering upturned pew, 

in this mizzly sylvan church. 

______________________

Alan Abrams is a retired builder and building designer. His stories, poems, reviews,

and other writings have been widely published in journals and anthologies on both

sides of the Atlantic. Abrams is also the founding editor of Sligo Creek Publishing.

(April 2026 issue)