Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, CITY PRIEST, by ANNE HIGGINSON SPICER


Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

CITY PRIEST, by                    
First Line: So he droned on, of parish work and claims
Last Line: I cannot think that jesus' hands were white!
Subject(s): Clergy; Priests; Rabbis; Ministers; Bishops


So he droned on, of parish work and claims;
Of weddings, funerals, the constant call
Upon his time and strength; and through it all
Came mention of rich men with powerful names,
Who were his friends. He spoke of sport and games
To lure the young from the low dancing-hall,
And while he talked I watched the lift and fall
Of well-kept hands, gesturing of his aims.
I did not follow all the things he said.
Those smooth hands vanished from my sight. Instead,
A picture built itself before my sight
Of a rough work-bench, where with saw and blade
A young Lad labored at his Father's trade.
I cannot think that Jesus' hands were white!





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