Lenten, they say,
in the old spring way—
those pointing at dust blown in and tumbleweeds
sins: oh yes, we remember those,
and now the sway
is a chopping block.
Stock letters and keys
to lock away the shameful things of me;
we who know vaguely
infidelity.
But do we give them away?
The Child desires not sacrifice but mercy;
breathe the cruel breeze, they say,
see, tumbleweeds,
and we do not let them go with the gray
dust wind singeing corners of our eyes.
These things that come between
we lock away
and cling
to m...
Published on February 26, 2012 13:01