Sunday, July 9, 2023

Circular, draft no. 3

They fall into my mailbox

in blue or orange or red—

Circulars, like boa constrictors,

leaving me for dead.

They sold me, and I let them,

They sold me for a dime.

I let them rob me over and over,

All my money and my time.

I let them sell me what they wanted—

They made me think I wanted that?

I didn’t know what I really wanted was

Silence and s l a c k .

Silence is golden,

its worth forever true

His gift to you this Christmastime is

Silence through and through.

Silence, mid the circulars,

Silence in the malls

And in the mouths, the homes, the halls.

Silence of the sort only Jesus gives.

Silence from the core,

where the Holy Spirit lives.