XIII. Jesus Is Taken Down from the Cross

This morning, I hauled to the street
A heavy wooden pallet, so beat
The workmen had left it behind:
Its boards, rough-hewn and splintering
Against the asphalt. When I leaned
It on the dumpster, with some twine
And flattened cardboard boxes, too,
For the trash-man, a March gust blew
And overturned what I had built.
The hard wood clattered on the road
And split, exposed its secret load
Of bent and rusted nails, now spilled,
Scattered like seeds, like teeth and bones,
Awaiting tires, the feet of those
Too lost in song to watch their step.
One nail stared up from the cracked wood.
I plucked it out, just as they would
Who returned you to your mother’s lap.
Comments are automatically closed two weeks after an article's initial publication. See our comments policy for more.

Advertisement

The latest from america

San Francisco Archbishop Salvatore J. Cordileone speaks from the floor on Nov. 14 at the fall general assembly of the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops in Baltimore. (CNS photo/Bob Roller) 
At the request of the Vatican, the U.S. bishops postponed a vote on a set of proposals aimed at holding themselves accountable over sexual abuse.
Michael J. O’LoughlinNovember 14, 2018
No single person can be trusted to wield power; therefore, power must be shared among many and policed by a legal system of checks and balances.
Matt Malone, S.J.November 14, 2018
We all share the belief that gun violence has no place in our society, nor does the hate that often precipitates the gun violence.
Lucia McBathNovember 14, 2018
In the life of every long-lived man and woman, the future flows into promise, then fades into peril and panic.
Terrance KleinNovember 14, 2018