PSALM
for J.N.

The Lord is my shepherd
he sang and the stone listened

bite marks on though leek leaf
pilgrim disguised as a jogger

children skillfully play
a game they don’t understand,

and I would be his sheep
her pet tiger the autumn moon

cover your heads dear friends
harvest soon, too soon to plant.

2.
Next year’s alliums already
sting my eyes, I need
the mead of music, parched
with truth, need the holy
silence only music brings,

stone on your doorstep, door,
threshold, liminal, margin,
pages of the book to be,
Adonai rohi it sounded like,
his young voice suddenly old.
Words age us, did I even know
I wanted to be a sheep, a ram
even mighty with curved horns,
would I eat grass? But what is
this tumult around me, a town,
nation sick with fun at midnight,
who really is the moon?

5 October 2022