WHITE LILIES
You Who walked
the crossed streets of Jerusalem
like the waves of the Sea of Galilee.
You Who drank
Your own blood
and passed it out as wine.
You who broke Your body
and brought it back,
bread from Heaven
baked in Hell.
You Who stepped back
into a thunder of clouds
and will step forward
out of a cloud of thunders.
We remember with lilies.
For some reason,
we remember all this fire
with delicate white lilies.
H. Edgar Hix
Minneapolis, Minnesota
Copyright 1998 H. Edgar Hix
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NOVEMBER
November's melancholy calms my sighs
with somber grays. Her muted beauty speaks
of rest between October's flaming skies
and gold December's rush of hectic weeks.
My hectic senses pause, each in its turn,
as snow's white calmness stills the slightest sound,
and passive, smoky skies let me discern
majestic grace in softened light. I've found
the touch of moistened wind a crisper taste,
a sweeter breath in early-shadowed days.
Breath on, November, wrap me in your chaste
low clouds. Bereft of color, you hold my gaze.
Enthralled by ageless charm I walk your length,
Throw wide my arms, drink deeply of your strength.
Lora Zill
Conneaut Lake, Pennsylvania
Copyright 1996 Lora H. Zill
First published in The Lyric, Winter 1995.
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JUST AS I AM
The sale tag says "As Is."
That means it's second rate.
I drop the item, walk away
and never hesitate.
And yet, "just as I am"
is how I've labeled me.
Praise God that Jesus knew my price
and still faced Calvary.
Marsha Hood
Carnegie, Pennsylvania
Copyright 1997 Marsha Hood
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THE KITCHEN CLOCK
I.
By rights, the sunburst
clock should have stopped
when she died, all cooking
at the antique range, all
solitary meals at the dinette
table ceased, the centerpiece
of pink rosebuds vanished;
but perversely, the silent
clock started again,
ticked on for months,
erratic as her heartbeats
during the final weeks,
the time out-of-kilter
a.m. confused with p.m.
II.
"The clock," I say,
it my turn to choose a memento.
They look at me askance,
but I add it to my keepsakes --
Elizabeth Howard
Crossville, Tennessee
Copyright 1998 Elizabeth Howard
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