Senseless Repetition

I left Jerusalem.
All warned people left Jerusalem.

We expected a godly demonstration
and feared turning into salt.

I traveled alone
in the company of others.

All of us looked at our feet
as we stepped away from tradition.

I hoped this was the end
of perennial war.

But the weight of Nothing changes
kept my head down.

My footsteps covered the footprints
of those in front of me.

A man by the side of the road
with his head broken open

had a votive candle where his brain
once was.

This is the beginning
simultaneous with the end.

A single mother struggled to keep her children
from looking back toward home.


copyright © 2020 Kenneth P. Gurney

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