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As we age are views of religion change. Perhaps the realization of death alters our view?


Submitted:Dec 28, 2007    Reads: 133    Comments: 2    Likes: 1   


I would watch each coat of religion

huddle under the neon bingo sign

Their blue rinse dripping

upon the open page of psalm 23



Each was widowed

leant upon by the weight of death

This I surmised

was why they wore the warming jacket



I was sceptical

and viewed their need for insulation

As a human condition

a blanket I saw as blind



As my ageing immortality

greets my face every morning

The mirror helps me decipher

the text of King David



I begin to explore the fragile pages

of a text arranged long ago

Not fully convinced

yet a folded page of interest, awaits my return





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