Mudlark No. 61 (2016)

I dreamed that Jesus bid me go

and rake the ashes on Mount Golgotha,
looking for the poems he lost there. 

My dear, don’t weep, he said.
One of them began “A bead like amber
hung from pine”—so you may, he said,
find my virtue glinting in the dust. 

The rosin of my heart, he said. 

My dear, he said, my litter of lost rosin.

Patrick Donnelly | Jesus said Papa 
Contents | Mudlark No. 61 (2016)