The Parish Church of St John-at-Hampstead

Sylvia Read

I do not wish to meet myself.
I’ve walked so far to get away;
the path was stony, steep and dark,
and faces strange that passed me there.
I did not want to stay

with pictures in the mirrored hall,
the accurate images of self,
or babbling trust from the sombre couch,
or pithy summaries of truth
from a red confessional.

I do not wish to meet myself.
I’ll walk to the round world’s end
not to be introduced to me,
never to meet me socially
or ever to become my friend.