If these three simple things are true, and I drew a palm,
I knew how I’d see soon how palms sat, and I dreamt
I knew the palm, how it was far from the signs,
how I was far from Christ where I would spend those palms.
All that’d left were visible scores on open roads up dirt
that animal marks for future, garments cut on rushes,
candy with bread, oil lamps, statues of Jesus in an
olive farm. After that, all I’d been left were clothes.
All that’d left was spread large cloths along the route.
Advertisements
