HEATHER MAECHERLEIN BROWNE

HEATHER MAECHERLEIN BROWNE

PALM SUNDAY

We handed out palm fronds,
cut down for today,
to wave and welcome our Holy King.
Swinging and singing
Our leaves dry out, they separate
from branch,
and fall at our feet.
His carpeted walk
I left them there.
Laying down Jesus.

Worshippers didn’t notice,
stepping on them,
over them, as they left.
Jesus at our feet.

I stayed and picked them up,
one by one.
Now, a leathery hide,
tougher, ribs and veins protruding,
felt.
I rubbed them.
Jesus in my hands,
as they wither,
losing life,
and tear.