8 April 2007, 10:50 AM
RJC
So many things have been eaten
by the locusts, but not this moment,
sacred as it is- Robyn rests
beneath the shade of palms, in the shelter
of the Nave, gazing up through longish
leaves which leave their outlines on her
face and in her mind- someday not so soon
she’ll leave this place behind, but not
this moment. In some way, big or small,
she’ll remember the incense, the darkness,
these haunting hymns,
and the palms.
3 comments:
Good morning! Christ is risen! Are you as sore as I am this morning?
oops that was me, Lisa
I like this poem alot! it inspires me to write a poem.... we'll see how that goes. :-)
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