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Good Friday Reflections
The wind is calm. The aura sweet.
The thunder came. The thunder went.
I like this time of year
when things get done
invisibly, when
everything, young
and wet is hanging
by a leaf. The saviour
Jesus hasn't dimmed
for two thousand easters,
Nature hasn't receded.
(Eyes still think they see
softly wrapped in silk
and spun into simile.)
I like this time of night,
traffic faces all directions
and the pouting moon
has no reflection.
The wind is calm. The aura sweet.
The thunder came complete.
poem
by
James Kendrick
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