Poetry

In a dream Perpetua beheld a bronze ladder

I am lying this morning

Jesus came to Bethany, where Lazarus was, whom Jesus had raised from the dead. There they made him a supper.

fought Sunday mornings in the park below

I’m sitting here doing nothing, soaking up

Above the bluebleak priest the brightblue fisher hovers.

In this game we confess the things

November 16, 1989