Travellers

A poem more about the truth, naked truth, of what’s going on right now…

Travellers

A high price to pay at their journey’s end
they travelled a long way, he on foot,
she on a mule,
and she heavy with child.
All doors were closed against them.
No welcome anywhere.
And the night bitterly cold.

There are others travelling now,
paying a cruel price
for unsafe boats, or crowded lorries;
men, children, women heavy with child.
Many die on the journey.
No welcome anywhere
and the nights bitterly cold.

How they would be glad of a stable,
the body-warmth of beasts,
the small comfort of straw.

Gill McEvoy Dec 2015