Wednesday, April 04, 2012

come Wednesday (Mark 14:1-11)

come Wednesday
   the world stunk
   with the bitterness
      of intrigue;
the foul breath
   of secret machinations
      fogged the alleys
      and byways
         of the city,
while the silent
   walls echoed
the whispers
   of the lovers
   of shadows.

the spines of the scolds
   and dander filled
      their mouths
as they took umbrage
         with the one
   who spread solace
            on the soul
         of her Beloved,
when they
   would have doused him
   with the sour perfume
         of self-righteousness.

come Wednesday . . .

(c) Thom M. Shuman

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