lenten journal: digging in
my job tonight was

to mix the ashes
and the oil making
from the charred remains
a paste of penitence
the sacred soot stared
from the bottom of
the plate as I poured
olive oil from home
and began to stir
the ashes stuck to
me like skin like they
knew me turning the
lines across my palm
into an ancient
map of heart I looked
as though I had been
digging in the dirt
even now my nails
are outlined by an
ashy shadow a
call to dig a grave
to plant a new bulb
in the same motion
a farmer of faith
Peace,
Milton