| Written by Fr. Pier Giorio di Cicco,
|
Views : 567  |
His eyes fell out of his head so full of
pain and stunned with it,
and Christ too came visiting and found his
head vacant, whereupon I placed a cross in
his hands and spit a kiss moon-wise, his wife
straddling two stars, his children star-dust.
What is this man I said but a friend
And shadow stitched to me,
Whom I will follow like shoes all the
Weary days of my life.
Some days he was on the planet, like all of us
And then searched for the Saviour between beads
Of sweat.
What poetry comes out of him like a child,
And all the words, like mama
That I lather my heart in,
As I say goodbye
And ask him for the thief’s name, as if my own.
Recommend this article... |
Fr. Pier Giorio Di Cicco |
| About the author: |
| Fr. Pier Giorgio DiCicco, a priest of the Archdiocese of Toronto, has authored 17 books of poetry. He was born in Italy, raised in Montreal, Boston and Toronto and has taught at the University of Toronto. He is currently Poet Laureate of the City of Toronto. His poetry is published by The Mansfield Press
|
|
|
Users' Comments  |
|
Average user rating
(0 vote)
|
|
|