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Before the inclusion wakes
I sit breathing,
ears open.
It is silent Saturday
when interred
life lies.
A cardinal speaks louder
than words outside
my window.
A blood breast is all
I look for,
for now.
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2 responses to “Life Interred”
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>This is the day the Bible doesn't really speak to — but it must have been the desolate Saturday. This is beautiful, Jerry.
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>this is wonderful jerry – i agree with what glynn says – the world held its breath and hung in a space between hope and fear – sat breathing, ears open – just as you described – love this – really love this
Gerald the Writer 
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