Wednesday, February 2, 2011

February Last

I wish the minister would let it rest;
It’s hard enough to be in here at all.
Please leave some space for heaving of the breast
And save your sermon for the lecture hall.

She feels as if she’s in a waking dream,
So let her catch her breath now, if you please.
Although police have cordoned off the scene,
Its violent stain’s the only thing she sees.

Another knuckle knocking on the door,
Two ruddy faces clad in bright clean shirts,
And two more souls she’s never met before
Arrive with kindness, flowers, Bibles, words.

Though you’ve been kind to share what you believe,
It’s taking all her strength right now, to breathe.


(c) 2008 Frederick C. Ingram