Wednesday, February 01, 2017


May the oily stain upon my shoulder
from the morning bottle feed
or the one tiny oatmeal-covered hand
that grasped me in delight
Which stands out against the pitch black
of my crisp, clean clergy shirt
become a stubborn reminder
within my range of sight
Of the other mark upon my life
The stain that holds me fast
That says my life—each day!—begins in joy
A bearer of the light

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