Monday 29 December 2008

Member Care and Doing Good III

Now and Again
I once thought
my feet were being washed.
But I was wrong.
Instead I learned
my feet were being anointed.
For my burial.
I was to die
for those I claimed to love.
For colleagues.
For a field.
For certain and uncertain friends.
For certain and uncertain enemies.
For nothing.
For everything.
And again.

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