The Small Death II

The light plays on him like water
and my tears in the morning fall
				at his feet

the pain in my bones and my
		back and my hips, my
		smaller leg
	sympathise with his wounds

I rise to tea, silence, then
		a CD, and to a walk
		on stone to a seat of learning

He rose to glory and eternal life
	in Zion and in our hearts

I cry for those who have gone:
		Gretel in the wood forever
		awaiting the wolf,

we all die singly and alone
even when walking down the road
in the morning.

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