Judges
“. . . and her hap was to light on a part of the field belonging unto Boaz . . .”
-The Book of Ruth
Judges: and they come and go, the one worse
than the one before as time moves and law
splinters into ways enough for each man.
An old woman waits, a young woman works
in the bitter edge of looks and asides
or the proud remarks on hope’s long virtue.
Even now when light changes its cast and
all through the valley cold’s haze settles down,
the characters of striving and of need
are not as distant as we make them seem.
Judges: and always we call a new one
while at the same time we hide stooping down
over clutches of wealth until darkness
sets our minds to do right and not be seen.
Tucked away in the folds of ninety degrees
homes bear the wanting we know yet dread to see.
Is it so different, what you have done, from
the choices you call out among us now?
You, who see old eyes frightened, young eyes yearning
and keen eyes searching even as you spread your wings.
