I and He, He and I
Walking up a steeply-ancient cobblestreet, old witchwomen observe
The young man passing, sweating blood.
He has his cross to bear,
His words to justify,
Betraded for silver
His friends to forgive,
His life to forget.
A tangle of barbthorns is his armour;
He rules over death:
Looks well in a tomb!
Vinegar is his wine,
Children are his mentors,
Criminals are his company
His life was led according to his favourite adage:
"Do unto others are you would like them to do unto you".
Copyright © Eanna Butler | Year Posted 2020
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment