The Magdalene
By John Blase
She loved him because
his ways were gentle.
How he came to be like
that she did not know
and did not care.
It was enough that he was.
He always greeted her
the way morning breaks,
sharp but soft.
He did not come to rescue her
as most men defined rescue:
to bend and to douse.
He came lighting the way
for her to stand and burn.
