Lamentation
By Patrick T. Reardon
Let Israel now say,
let Aaron now say,
give thanks,
mercy endures,
mystery forever his majesty.
Bulleted chaste gazelle,
backyard cement,
clot-blood hosed onto yellow winter grass.
I called upon,
put confidence in.
Mountain defiled.
Morning-dark body.
Compassed me about,
compassed me about,
compassed me about,
compassed me about like bees,
the fire of thorns,
raw flame and wild.
Robes rent.
Cup unpassed,
drained.
My strength and song
not die,
gates of righteousness,
stone builders refused,
day dawn.
Bind the sacrifice with cords
at the horns of the altar.
Devoid of speed and flight and fight.
The finger squeeze.
Sacred holocaust,
the day the Lord has made.
Patrick T. Reardon
5.15.20
This poem originally appeared in UCity Review on 11.27.19
Written by : Patrick T. Reardon
For more than three decades Patrick T. Reardon was an urban affairs writer, a feature writer, a columnist, and an editor for the Chicago Tribune. In 2000 he was one of a team of 50 staff members who won a Pulitzer Prize for explanatory reporting. Now a freelance writer and poet, he has contributed chapters to several books and is the author of Faith Stripped to Its Essence. His website is https://patricktreardon.com/.