| Written by Fr. Pier Giorio di Cicco,
|
Views : 542  |
Caruana is dead,
a small man who confessed me in ’82.
with no claim to anything
except the eternal.
A gentleness to bring tears to your eyes.
So subtly forgiving he
seemed hardly there.
You can’t save those who won’t
start life.
But I remember a good confession —
something about grace used up in different names,
and the smile of this man
larger than a sunset.
Let’s say he was gentleness.
Let’s say I remember the poet in him.
this man who, with the Lord, who kept me from the
half-dead.
All of us poets
when we rest a soul
in mercy.
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)
|
|
|
