Monday, October 14, 2013

Crooked Cross

Crooked Cross

Remember how we used to criticize the cross of St. Bridgit's?
Blame Christianity in general for its shoddiness? Its slant?
We sat in the park and laughed.

There was a squirrel scrambling up a tree.
Entranced, we watched it circle the trunk, and jump to a wire.
Tippetty tippetty, all across a power line.

Missing a beat, it fell to the ground with a bit of a splat.
I love that you did not laugh. Nor did I.
Neither of us breathed, until it regained itself… and bounded on.

I note that neither you or I have ever laughed at that crooked cross
since that time. Nor have we talked about it. You sip your tea
and I sip my coffee, in the park.  We seem to silently agree --

Not everything is perfect. Not anywhere.

-- © Ciprianowords, Inc. 2013 --

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