Delaney. Part I

“It’s too hot, Sister.” Delaney is accustomed to the rough dressing at the hands of Sister Mary Eunice who yanks the tattered wool sweater down over the seven-year-old’s raised arms, lifted as in surrender. Lamplight bounces from her cheeks which are flush like a furnace. It’s still dark, barely past five thirty. Her curly dark…

I Killed A Man On Monday

I killed a man on Monday As I prayed to God for safety My knee upon his neck Interceding for protection From all who look like him Loitering in my neighborhood Choking him with my ungodly fear I killed a man on Monday As I studied his tragic past Kneeling down to look more closely…

Tell the Truth, But Tell it Slant

Sometimes the truth needs to be told from an angle. The truth head on can blind a person or scare them, like a bolt of lightning. Better to tell it in a more circuitous way. Or so it seems Emily Dickenson believed if we grasp her poem. Jesus liked to tell it slant in his…

Honoring COVID-19 Heroes with More Than Yard Signs

I’m grateful for the current groundswell of interest for those people serving in our retirement homes, grocery stores and health care facilities. We are giving tremendous shout-outs to people in service sector jobs like farm workers and bus drivers. There are homemade signs and commercials celebrating people in essential manufacturing jobs, such as those making…

The Reward of its Waiting

Janine and I have been participating in a virtual version of the Camino de Santiago, walking every day in the woods. I’ve grown in my appreciation of our symbiotic relationship with trees and plants. It reminded me of a poem I wrote for Janine on our 25th. She has a long love of trees and…