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Poetry

lets go of his cane and holds
with both hands the pew ahead of him.
Now and then he dips down, shaking,
pulls himself back up. Stands still
as he can while the gospel’s read.
Today the Parable of the Sower.
Pastor says he thinks it’s less
about what kind of soil we are—
rocky, weed-choked, good—
and more about God’s extravagance.
Afraid my neighbor will fall
I keep my eye on his resolve.
Love’s grip has give and sway.

 


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