Miserere mei
I’m a bad broke poet who chooses to confess his sins at dawn.
That’s when the Good Book says God’s mercies are newly minted
and it just feels prudent to act when there are sufficient funds.
Some evenings forgiveness feels empty, like I’ve driven too far
that day and the low fuel light’s on and there’s not a station
in sight. Better to just stop and sleep. Of course this means
that if I should die before I wake there’ll be loose ends. I fully intended to tie them up come morning but the sun never rose on my good intentions. My last words were the stars.
that if I should die before I wake there’ll be loose ends. I fully intended to tie them up come morning but the sun never rose on my good intentions. My last words were the stars.
Brilliant, poet friend. You knocked this so far out of the park we all have to go get a collective “new ball” to continue to play at writing poetry. 🙂 bravo bravo
Thank you, Elizabeth. I’ve never received a ‘bravo bravo’ before…not quite sure how to feel. But thanks!
🙂
Your words are a balm to my wrestling spirit.
This is brilliant. Thank you.
Jamie, thank you for your comment. And you’re welcome.
Lectio Divina.
Mimi, thank you!
Somehow I hope my last words are the stars. Lovely, John. I like it when you get your cowboy hat on.
Me too, Diana. Thanks!
It seems somehow irreverent to comment on such a poem with anything more than tears, John.
Thank you very much for your comment, Peg.