by Richard L. Provencher
6/20/2008 / Poetry
In Potter's Field
No name do I leave upon this
cross fashioned by a
man whose sole purpose
to lay at rest souls such as mine
without gain or notoriety among
the poor whether produce or
building of stone nor bank accounts
to claim as my own.
And now this body I do lay at rest
a soul joined with others who once
led beneath the maple trees
beneath sun's stare that skims an
eastern sky. Now I rise in splendour
each day with a vision of life
lacking material things yet
joyous among the spirit-soul of men.
Richard L. Provencher 2008
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