Dallas Poem by Michael Walker

Dallas



O, city of concrete clovers and love,
With you I grew from a boy to a man,
Learning to hear the whispers of the Dove,
Like only those who speak with Jesus can.

The grey clouds float from here to Aberdeen,
Above the houses of cards in Old Mill,
The village of the youth of Constantine,
Where there were cups to fill with wine to swill.

The Tower tolls the hour through the mist!
Search for Cistercian and Dominican
Vigil candles to Thomas Aquinas
To shed warm glow on the Incarnation.

I love you still, my beloved Dallas,
Although there I first encountered malice.

Friday, August 1, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: jesus
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