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Poetry
Simon of Cyrene
Bruce Dawe
"I was present there at that scourging
(Well, only for a quick look...),
But a tap of a Roman soldier's spear,
On my shoulder, was all that it took
To force me to join the procession
And carry that upright of wood
(I'd come over for the Passover,
But pleading wouldn't do any good...),
So thanks to these big shoulder-muscles
And a back that has served me well,
(But no thanks to those bossy Romans,
And I wished them all to Hell!),
I lugged that splintery timber
All the way to that God-awful place
Called the Hill of Skulls, without having a rest
Or anyone to wipe my face,
So I dumped my wooden burden there,
On the bloody ground, and said:
'Is that the lot?' and that soldier
Nodded his helmeted head...
They had three lined up on the hill that day,
But I didn't wait around to see
-I'd already paid a high enough price
For my curiosity."
-Bruce Dawe-
Reprinted from AD2000 Vol 25 No 5 (June 2012), p. 17 |
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