One last bunch of words inspired by this coming Sunday’s gospel reading (see previous two posts for more):

Neighbour as self

I see myself pick up the paper before the street is awake,

shuffling back in slippers to the echoing, empty house.

I watch the sun rise and the trees sway in the wind.

The squirrels make scattering noises on the roof.

When darkness falls, the cold bites hard, leaving marks on my skin.

I burn the newspaper for warmth, but it flames up and dies too soon.

Outside, the day dawns gray, without sun.

I see my newspapers gathering rain.

I wonder if I should check if I’m alright,

or leave myself alone, alone, alone.