Tuesday, May 2, 2017

Cold Comfort

I was the only sinner
at the Cold Comfort church -
the baptismal font was dry.
But in a pasture alive
with Pentecost wind,
I found God in a gift horse's eye.

For The Tuesday Platform at Real Toads

13 comments:

Buddah Moskowitz said...

Gorgeous!

Marian said...

Ahhh... so that's what happens when you look.

brudberg said...

Best place to look... and it's not a sin.

Sherry Marr said...

Wow! This is spectacular!

Kim Russell said...

I don't know why, mama Zen, but the dark suggestion of your poem brought to mind the preacher in that film with Robert Mitchum, 'The Night of the Hunter'.

gypsy said...

I think you should break the final line in half, dropping down the last few words after "God." To me, the flow would be better.

Also: I love this poem! I can so get down with the spirit of this. (I was a horse girl too.)

I also like flip-flopping the closing into "I found a gift horse in God's eye." Or, "I found a gift --- whores in God's sigh." Is that blasphemous? Or is that just cool? I think there are whores in God's eyes. There have to be. The woman at the well and everything ...

And ... this is very, very bad of me, but I see "Cold Come Fort" in your title. :X Don't hate me. I can't help it.

Sanaa Rizvi said...

Beautifully haunting!

Frank Hubeny said...

Probably anywhere is a good place to look. Nice rhyme between "dry" and "eye".

grapeling said...

impeccable ~

blueoran said...

You always manage to catch in so few lines the prairie wind that winnows dross from gold.

paulscribbles said...

Just So tight. Like a well oiled blues band.

Rosemary Nissen-Wade said...

Sounds bleak and yet triumphant.

telltaletherapy said...

terrifically terse :)