THE BLACK VALLEY POEMS

THE SACRED

The whiskey priest
arranges matches on a counter

Selective order upon the confusion
of a life we must all live

The temptation to become prophet
was great & had to be resisted

There is no truth but grace, he tells us
& it comes from another place

The loss of the feeling of the sacred
a dam restricting the flow of the First River

O I see the sadness of things

so live without hope yet without despair