Now an older future holder.
Finnegan’s Wake: a late-in-life comedy
some seventeen years in the making.
Shake. Quiver. Oh, for heaven’s sake.
An unrealistic entitlement to happiness?
(eyes narrow) Pish posh (a shoulder shrug)
Everyday cannot be a Saturday.
But with a week so rough–
I find myself asking:
Should the Sabbath pass quietly?
Is there a sermon worth shouting
from mountaintops so desolate
that even the echoes rarely reach
an ear? Not even you can hear.