Friday, 2 March 2007

IV Jesus Meets His Mother

Even while the skin
splinters and blood...

There are eddies
like wood grain whirls
in the path;

softer spaces where
what is right and
what is wrong

meet and tumble each other
to tears on the faces
of mothers, brothers,
fathers, sisters...

So close that breath
passes shame and hurt
between people who
can't not love

despite the right.

Spaces where 'what is right'
is hated.

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