Heavy Lifting Poem by David Alpaugh

“A contentious granite monument inscribed with the
ten commandments was finally removed from public
view at the Alabama state judicial building yesterday,
in the face of furious protests.”

—The Guardian Unlimited,08/28/2003

I laid my hands on that granite Bible
and helped tilt five thousand pounds
off the courthouse floor so the bailiff
could wedge a jack under the pedestal.

Words graved in stone rose into the air
honor thy father... shalt not kill... adultery
words that took me back—way, way back
to Bible school... those gloomy Sundays.

We wheeled the Ten Commandments
into storage; covered them with a sheet
and locked the door—while protesters
wept on the courthouse steps.

Two tons are a snap to move these days
with hydraulic jacks & powered dollies.
Still, I couldn’t help thinking how hard
it was for a solitary man like Moses

to strap those great stone tablets on
to his back and lug them all the way
down the craggy slope of Mount Sinai!
Shoulders, loins aching, how tempted

he must have been to dump Jehovah’s
thou-shalt-nots into a fiery fissure—
and run for cover like a Philistine,
more fearful of a hernia than brimstone.

What a relief to reach level ground
and look back at that arduous mountain—
to lay those heavy strictures down for a while
before rousing his sleeping children.