The Square

-

 

I am tired from my walk.

I sit at the Square.

Tourists everywhere,

marveled by what I see

as only red bricks and names.

 

Olipop in hand.

I feel American.

You know-

them,

With their probiotic things.

 

The sun is out.

Dresses, skirts, and shorts

Color spills everywhere.

 

Across the street

A fat man sits on a slab,

Bible in hand

shouting at passersby

reciting Scripture:

“Every knee shall bow, every tongue confess…”

And he speaks of eternal life, the power of Salvation 

Romans 10:10

They throw glances.

Another yells a Hallelujah back.

 

I wonder, as they move, 

Does the Good News

cling to them

prickly and persistent,

Like a thought you didn’t invite

But can’t quite brush off?

Do they recall him

When they recount their trip?

Back in their beds,

jet-lagged and sunburned—

Do they remember his voice?

Or does it all blur?



Comments

  1. AnonymousApril 22, 2025 at 6:18 AM

    I can't see the like button so I am going to leav this here❤️

    ReplyDelete

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