The Pilgrim Road 50 Poem by David McLansky

The Prison (50)

Two came to the Pilgrim's cell, 

They touched their nose at the smell, 

For it was dark, and cold, and dank, 

And deep within, how it stank; 

'We've brought you food, ' said Sister Ruth, 

'We sympathize, to tell the truth; 

My partner here is one of your band, 

She's known to you as Betty Ann; '

The Pilgrim's face pressed against the bars, 

The candle flame made him see stars, 

'The Deacon has postponed your trial; 

It seems you'll be here for awhile.'

They handed him a bundled cloth, 

Around the flame there flew a moth, 

'They may keep you here a year; 

‘Till you're forgot or disappear.'

'And how's the child, ' they heard him ask, 

His voice a squeak that had a rasp, 

'She's not in a cell like this? '

By candle light they saw caked lips; 

'With the Warden's wife she stays, 

That is as long as she behaves; 

They watch her closely like a hawk, 

They don't let her sing or even talk; 

They fear she'll raise her Devil husband, 

That she'll bring sickness on the land; 

I pray no cow falls down and dies, 

No piglets sicken in their sty; '


And as she spoke she knelt right down, 

'Please God no plague infect the town; '

Betty Ann stood in the dark, 

Lit by the candle's errant spark, 

'Here is a blanket for you Pilgrim, '

Her face was set, stark, and grim; 

He took the blanket through the bars, 

She touched his hand with one of hers; 

'Blessing for what you have done, 

In the name of the Father and the Son, 

And the Holy Spirit, I might add, '

She withdrew her hand looking sad; 

They left him in his black hole cell, 

With the rats, the fetid smell, 

How hastily he ate his bread, 

He felt them scurry at his tread.

The Miracle (50)

The greedy farmer, Frank Barone

Was standing in his barn alone, 

When a swelling at his throat, 

Made him stumble, gasp, and choke; 

He felt a pressure in each arm pit, 

Then in his groin which made him sit; 

He saw his sacred, most precious blood

Drip to the muck and yellow mud; 

They found him covered with black sores, 

Blood trickling out of every pore; 


Judge Bivona sitting in his bath

Saw his skin color with a rash; 

It turned him red, then dark brown; 

He tried to rise and turn around, 

But then sores broke out upon his back, 

His arms grew weak and then fell slack; 

He tried to call out for his maid, 

But his thickened tongue would not obey; 

His swollen tongue made him choke, 

He tried to rise, but his grip broke; 

And falling back into his bath, 

There he drowned struggling to the last;