Henri Cole Poems
- White Spine Liar, I thought, kneeling with the others, how ...
- Buddha And The Seven Tiger Cub... Holding a varnished paper ...
- Harvard Classics It is the hour of lamps. On our knees my ...
- Childlessness For many years I wanted a child though I knew ...
- Folly In the Doria Pamphili garden, most of the granite ...
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Comments about Henri Cole
Liar, I thought, kneeling with the others,
how can He love me and hate what I am?
The dome of St. Peter's shone yellowish
gold, like butter and eggs. My God, I prayed
anyhow, as if made in the image
and likeness and him. Nearby, a handsome
priest looked at me like a stone; I looked back,
not desiring to go it alone.
The college of cardinals wore punitive red.
The white spine waved to me from his white throne.
Being in a place not my own, much less
myself, I climbed out, a beast in a crib.
Somewhere a terrorist rolled a cigarette.
Reason, not faith, ...