Fragment.
On my way to City court to be judged again,
I pick up a small stone.
The month is March, it will be Easter soon.
I put the stone in my pocket.
It is that I feel the need for deliverance
and maybe if I do this.
My hands are sweaty, my fervent futile wish
is that I had never been in jail that first time.
I put the stone into my other hand
and caress it with my fingertips.
I find it is moist and realize it is a fragment of the Earth
center, and I know that it is my redemption.