HOMECOMING

After the crucifixion

Home:
Doorway
opened like
sun-hands to him
Muffled, he gasps the mottled words to me, wracked; his
Testament

Son.
Bolted
Down and packed
Off to heaven
Pitch-backed, a twitch, his hands perpetually shake
Scabbed.

He
Thrice died.
Thrice denied ;
ludicrous that
Judas took part in the beating.
Snake

Peter,
Gone, had
crept away
and wept away
A week of nights had slipped away while son kept awake.
Reading

Hush.
Pages
Sh-flick-sh
in silent nights
shunning the human dreams and the nightly creens and the memory of
Marching

Vague

pictures

seen through gauze.

I cannot recall -

It’s a pocked

Recollection

Voices speaking at either shoulder

behind my back I cannot turn and see

real Thieves? Or dreams cleaving the real?

Did I stop

to talk as

I hefted

my deathbed?

How many

times a fall?

A fall at all?

I think it was

a trinity.

Nothing vivid?

I recall browns,

Yellow sky,

splinters.

Stinging

every hour

(on the hour)

another string, it

feels

like

the death of a friend;

A pain that can not fade.

Fools.
They praised
His birth; thanked,
thrived and feasted
With Spiced wine, Cratchit. Now tangled in his matted curls;
thorns

Christ,
Hush child.
Spidered, he
Spread fingers up
To me, “I’m back” he lied, even now
Forgiving.