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Monday, February 11, 2013

White Smoke


I wish I could resign like Benedict.
Plead the obvious: age, infirmity.
Spend my days in warm, piazza light,
Eat simple meals, and wear clean clothes.
At night, when the dutiful aide goes,
Tell a loving, forgiving God "good night,"
And sleep in a place called the Holy See
Where peace evades the dark, and tradition's strict.

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