Poem for Feast of St. John Chrysostom


Poem for Feast of St. John Chrysostom

birds up
before the sun
one a finch
I think sings
in fits and starts
from parking
lot chain-link
as mountains shoulder
forth dingy cinnamon
from predawn
blue black
on this Chrysostom’s
feast day
afflict the comfortable
comfort the afflicted
he of the ‘golden
tongue’ whom
pickpockets adored
for crowds so
transfixed
by his words
they made
easy marks
‘so make up
your minds
not to prepare
your defense
in advance’
the words
like birds
drifting in
freely given
freely shared
nothing held
back nothing
spared



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