this passed friday that was Good--

as observations of darkness covered

a chosen body that fell upon the time as it is.

i heard the woman next door to me through

paper-thin walls listen to the solemn

chants of mass.

offering up voices of sacrifice, G*d in the sound

of agony.

i used to hear her husband cough violently from

smoking complications, and this passed friday

that was Good--i heard her sense of isolation

compounded.

i sensed how heavy hung her loneliness, observing

the darkness covering that chosen body.