Ingathering my frail smocked son he says: don’t squeeze.
Absolution by poison has made him into papier maché;
They kill him then redress the balance,
Befuddle his blood to save the valved heart.
If the worst of life connives such weakness
How can I plot to sidestep
The slow grinding dust to dust
And graft my tissue to his
To make him new weighty again
Full of substance, begotten not made?
” Nicholas Wolf
YOU MIGHT ALSO LIKE
Rome and the Church in the United States
Archbishop Michael J. Curley of Baltimore, who confirmed my father, was a pugnacious Irishman with a taste…
Marriage Annulment and False Mercy
Pope Leo XIV recently told participants in a juridical-pastoral formation course of the Roman Rota that the…
Undercover in Canada’s Lawless Abortion Industry
On November 27, 2023, thirty-six-year-old Alissa Golob walked through the doors of the Cabbagetown Women’s Clinic in…
