Poetry

1. The Reading

Sometimes I think that Jesus must have been on the train.

In the middle of God’s will

Noting the gaps along my shelves,

Be praised, my Lord,for the washing machine,whose swingle flails the soiled and stained.

Our old maple is half dead,

What wood is this?

Homes tent on prairies, grown wheat brims all horizon

The best way to know God is to love many things.