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by George Perreault

am i become my own bedesman

telling memories like a prayer


children i think were given

palms and pins, home scissors


bringing the handiwork to church

to pass out at Sunday service


bigger numbers, the old priest groused

what would we get with flowers


oh we’re past already father

unclenching’s in the bud


quickened wordplay with the scribes

and a little hide-and-seek


and then,


you know.


remember on the mountain

remember what he said

About the Author

George Perreault's work has appeared in journals and anthologies in the US, Canada, Ireland, England, and India. His most recent book, Bodark County, is a collection of poems in the voices of characters living on the Llano Estacado in West Texas.

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