Thursday, September 09, 2004

we find the time to do the things we want to get done,
  i proclaimed so haughtily to her.
i mentioned keys, bills and excel,
  she responded without a word.

this morning, in the damp quiet of the seven o'clock hour,
  as i sat with the scriptures, being primed for prayer,
i was pierced by the sharp edge of my statement
  and confronted by my most practical err.

i find time for bills, sweating the circle, even playing a little bond,
  but often ignore the draw of this sacred hour
  when i call and am called upon.

2 comments:

AlexPope said...

I love how you managed to fit "bond" in your poem, and I read it without even thinking about us waking up the neighborhood playing it.

AlexPope said...

I love how you managed to fit "bond" in your poem, and I read it without even thinking about us waking up the neighborhood playing it.