“The Cardinal”

The cousin cardinal wears red

Does he not?

The cardinal out the window

Needs nothing of these scattered books

These scraps and scribbling

Not even full of sound or fury.

 

Yet the cardinal says his matins,

The cardinal salutes a dawn we all share,

Drinks a dew,

Admires the sun’s play among droplets

We don’t even attempt to count,

And the one cardinal says prayers

To a thing we could never see

While the other drinks his praises

To one we can taste.

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~ by Benji on 8 May 2014.

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