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Poetry

Patrick Erickson

 

Erikson

Patrick Theron Erickson, a resident of Garland, Texas, a Tree City, just south of Duck Creek, is a retired parish pastor put out to pasture himself. His work has appeared in Grey Sparrow Journal, Cobalt Review, and Burningword Literary Journal, among other publications, and more recently in Right Hand Pointing, Tipton Poetry Journal, Wilderness House Literary Review and Danse Macabre.

BEHOLD, I STAND AT THE DOOR AND KNOCK

needs a door
and a door knocker
like old homes have

perhaps of brass
or wrought iron

and the brass tarnished
and the wrought iron rusted
from so many sweaty fingers

needs one who knocks
just outside the door

and one who opens
just inside

with only the door
and the threshold between them

whether the door is open
or closed

An open and shut affair
needs rewording

lest the one who knocks
and the one who opens
be misunderstood

I read of a culture
where only the thief knocks
to see if anyone is home

Friends and visitors
do not knock
but signal their coming
in a shrill greeting
some way off

a harangue
which needs no rewording

lest the knocker
be misinformed

and the one just inside the door
mistaken

with the door and the threshold
between them

and both be wary
and both beware.

Revelation 3:20

PULL BACK THE CURTAIN

and the curtain sticks
to the sweaty walls

Pull off your nightshirt
and your nightshirt sticks
to your sweaty skin

Open the newspaper
and the newspaper sticks
to your sweaty palms

and the newsprint soils
your sweaty fingers
spoiling the nightly news

All the news that’s fit to print
rubs off on your sweaty hands

You’re going to sweat this one out
sweat shop or no sweat shop

And the night sweats haven’t yet begun

And the night soil hasn’t yet been gathered in.

 

 

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