My Time

A corpse in the road to Judah.
A seated lion and a yawning ass.
The locusts chant one systole a minute
and I thirst.  Too long, and trust won’t do;
I need the Holy Ghost.
As men mark time I shouldn’t mark,  I’m told,
but martyred souls enjamb the very Throne
with metered stops.   The dead do count.
The dead are authorized to count.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s