CHRIST IN WINTER:
Reflections on Faith & Life for the Years of Winter…
I read the obituary for
the pretty girl
The one in the white car
that skidded on the mud
And off the road into a
magnolia tree
Each just about to bud,
the tree and the girl
Only twenty candles on her
last cake
Someone wrote the obit
words
Reciting the names of
those she loved
Those who loved her
And the names of what she
loved
As well as who she loved
“She loved to make to do
lists.”
Did that obit writer know
how sharp
That line would stab into
the hearts
Even of those who never
knew her?
The agony
Making lists of what to do
And never marking off the
lines
As done?
She probably made the
lists upon her phone
But I prefer to think of
her
Sitting on a weathered
bench beside a lake
A slight frown upon her
unlined brow
As she tries to think of
three more things to write
To fill the lines at the
bottom of the page
Of her small, flowered
spiral notebook
I shall do three things
for her
Watch a movie
in
which women talk and cry
Eat an ice cream cone
while
laughing at a lightning bug
Buy a tube of lipstick
which
I shall give to a pretty girl like her
Hoping that one of them
was on her list
Her most important list
The one on the pale pink
page
JRMcF
johnrobertmcfarland@gmail.com
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