Elegy and Psalm

He was ramshackle,
one of three thieves
bleeding out like a stuck pig.
To see it was to witness
an immodest poem,
no one knew exactly
what it meant but we all knew
how it made us feel –
bereft.
His last words are recorded.
There were others though,
not written down but entrusted
to our hands. We carried
them like a birthright
from that moment on.
He looked at me and said
Now nothing in this world
is plain, John. Nothing.
 

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5 Comments

  1. hisfirefly on April 16, 2014 at 12:52 pm

    the last three lines
    resounding loud
    nothing would ever be the same

  2. racheljoythompson on April 19, 2014 at 11:41 pm

    I love the line “We carried
    them like a birthright”

  3. pastordt on April 21, 2014 at 6:45 pm

    And how I sometimes hunger for plain, you know? Trying to lean into the not-plain. . .

  4. John Bullard on April 26, 2014 at 3:11 am

    One of the best and most powerful
    ‘Easter’ things ever written I think.
    Thanks.

  5. Maddie on March 30, 2015 at 5:17 pm

    Your words wreck me this Holy Monday.

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