Last Rites Poem by Donal Mahoney
Last Rites
When you have
an hour to live
what matters then
is Christ in a pyx
in the vest pocket
of an old priest
called at midnight
by a nurse
who drives miles
through sleet
and finds your room
in the hospital
Sunday, January 1, 2017
Topic(s) of this poem: christian,god
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4/26/2024 6:25:07 AM # 1.0.0.1119
