Sunday, August 17, 2008

Father Luke

More than once

in my life death

united me to someone or something otherwise not.

We started going to the Episcopal Church because they

(Ron and Betsy, his parents) had asked me to read a poem

for Nathaniel whom Beth had taken care of

who died in the NICU at 10 months

rare a poem about beacons something

about the light in his eyes.

And now through the threadbare thread of Raymond Davidson

there's Father Luke

and his delicious confessions
.

1 comment:

Patti said...

Filthy Jones? I guess we all have them, like skeletons rattling around in the closet.

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