One To Twelve Poem by Francie Lynch
One To Twelve
I'll have a bite
To eat -
A cup of wine,
Some broken bread;
Set them all at ease.
I think I'll wash
My feet -
A water bowl,
A ragged towel;
Clean off the dust
From off the street.
I'll disclaim
I'm a traitor,
Run to temple,
Hang out later.
Thursday, April 2, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: last supper,religion
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5/9/2024 6:39:38 AM # 1.0.0.1119
