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Monday, April 16, 2012

The Mag 113: Visions in Red

Red Roofs, Marc Chagall, 1954

Visions in Red

In the night of my many sighs
I see the roofs of our village 
rushing with red

I sit along the way 
pretending not 
to see my wedding day
this way

I am both in my own view
but along the way as well
my bouquet in hand

but I smell nothing 
though the taste of copper
is strong in the air
like I'm sucking on coins

my groom stands over us all
and ladles the blood of every Passover
on us all - even the Jew we call the Christ

I am clothed and yet nakedly vulnerable
before my groom, before God,
before the whole of the town 

Michael A. Wells

Mag 113

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