resurrection (through the wringer)

a seamless tunic, gambled for and lost
before that, a towel around the waist

a purple robe, a torn curtain (rent asunder)
two bloodied linens, and before that
a folded dinner napkin

endless loads of laundry gathered, stinking
hauled in heavy baskets down the stairs, down
staggering into darkness, into rank despair
gathered, sorted, waiting there

pressed upon the backs of folded flesh
rows and rows of them in pews, fresh scrubbed

or stiffly into creased and thin-stretched worn
by a hungry child, served not or serves himself

what came out, what whiteness blinding
sewn whole as cloth was first conceived, no seam
no binding, no warp or weft except what time
allowed; if you met Christ on the road
what was he wearing?

here in the basement, I brood among the piles
I search the scent of life's decay, for the hope
no bleach could hold, and I listen to the drum
of the dryer as it rolls

I imagine the flapping of a woman's garment
as she runs, through the moist morning of
my Midwestern spring,
as she runs as stumbling children will downhill
her mind a blank, clean bandage or a flag
a white flag, my surrendered reason

he is not here
he is risen

magic 8 ball

I cannot hold you;
Not even the idea of you belongs to me -

separated by a ruler's length of conscience
that spans a lifetime.

Every morning, I buy a cup of coffee
and while I wait, I shake the Magic 8 Ball.
Yes, it says. Absolutely. Every time.

stirred

"What good is cancer in April?" -- Lou Reed

unruly my bones
ring together stirred

on my clothes line
five or six sets of chimes blow
and a whirligig or two goes too
set in the earth by the garden
pinwheels and fans

unruly my bones

Jon was spared in the last round
of layoffs but says he felt the breeze
of the axe, as it passed him
by

Chris' MRI came back, clean

and my bones
ring together stirred unseen
like a baby moves in the belly
impatient with spring

The wind blows where it chooses, and you hear the sound of it,

but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes.

-- John 3:8