Drama,
Poems,
Essays

GREY CLOUDS BUNCHING, WINTER COMING FAST

Poem.  ©1982.

Out of money (not enough to buy bread)
I sat quiet in a church
to see what lightning god
would throw at my head.

Lightning broke the window
and burnt up the cross
God came thru the window
and spoke to me thus:

"-----"

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Copyright 1982. Revised 2001.


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Last modified: 9:55 PM 12/19/2001