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An Imperfect Life

poetry by Fr. Harold Macdonald

The Series

 

 

 

Real Things

 

Local things are news! Gossip, hot, excels!

What really happened? Here’s the latest scoop

How desperate to know, stay in the loop!

Who, why and what? For whom the tolling bells?

Then we submit to drearier reports,

writ and read, sounding seriously grave

about a more remote, more vague, enclave;

head office, councils, programmes, bishops’ courts.

Hollow our replies; silence is our friend;

their suits eventually will wear away,

(across the fence we’ll hear what people say).

The higher ups, the bishops, leaders, spend

or not. We live with things that seem more real

where thieves cannot break through nor robbers steal.

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