Good Friday
The day was filled with lash and thorn,
hands lacerated by hammered nail
til brain seared
and pain pierced
this great,
bleeding
soul.
Ancient grief still lingers on this
sun-drenched, bird-filled day,
as I wait in line to kiss
the wood and
remember.
poem by Steven Federle
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
No comments until now.