And it was night (Lent Poems 6)
The wind was thick about me, and
in my mouth the taste of bread
dipped in bitter herbs,
his eyes like firm-set stones,
his words like needles,
prodding, prompting: Do it quickly,
what you’re about to do; the wind
as it blew disguised those words that lodged
themselves into my burning ears.
I walked, and pushed
these scents and tastes and
memories out into the night.
The darkness took them.
The Consolations of Writing 