#96
Like Church Bells
The hundred dollar wind chimes
Ring sweetly through the day;
They fool me into thinking
It's always time to pray.
pray
Since a response to the day seemed called for...
#91
Ash Wednesday
"Ashes to ashes;
Dust to dust":
My soul would be golden,
Though it's nothing but rust.
I scrub and I scour
From daylight to dusk,
And though I weigh plenty,
I'm nothing but husk!
Tossed to the wind
I'd soon disappear;
Only real substance
Has nothing to fear.
Lord, make me precious,
Take my poor clay,
Make a real person:
On this day I pray.
I should call this bit of verse a tangle of metaphor, but after fussing at it for the last few days, I decided it would stand, and it wasn't about to get better.