when she held him for the first time
in the dark dank of a stable
after the pain and the bleeding and the crying
This is my body, this is my blood.
when she held him for the last time
in the dark rain on a hilltop
after the pain and the bleeding and the dying
This is my body, this is my blood.
Well that she said it for him then.
For dry old men,
brocaded robes belying barrenness,
Ordain that she not say it for him now.
(Frances Croake Frank )
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