Richard Rawson


Heathen Sunday - Poem by Richard Rawson

And now I call it a sacrament:
An incantation, a swing of the censer,
A rush of holy water into a glass.
I say: The ale is at my right hand,
and lift it to my lips.
I am my own best priest.

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Comments about Heathen Sunday by Richard Rawson

  • (10/29/2005 8:48:00 PM)


    a tribute to the sacramental nature of ALL experience. Well written. (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Saturday, October 29, 2005



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