In the brief yellow of dandelion sin
He preened with Jesus when the morning spoke
Away the need that made his manhood search
Guilty books in pillow-hidden
Thought that wanted more than bread
To live by through the vapid afternoon
That ached to evening.
Wishing the something that was feared
Could pass the placental shield of faith
Or wink in shadows of the dark but real
To the grieving of the meat around the soul.
Man blood strains as did the lamb’s
That dries upon the portals that it stains.
Edwin F. Kagin
Last updated: 9 January 2005