(for Joe Strickland)

the women gather 
because it is not unusual 
to seek comfort in our hours of stress
        a man must be buried

it is not unusual 
that the old bury the young 
        though it is an abomination

it is not strange 
that the unwise and the ungentle 
carry the banner of humaneness 
        though it is a castration of the spirit

it no longer shatters the intellect 
that those who make war 
call themselves diplomats

we are no longer surprised 
that the unfaithful pray loudest 
every sunday in every church 
and sometimes in rooms facing east 
       though it is a sin and a shame

        so how do we judge a man
 
most of us love from our need to love not 
because we find someone deserving

most of us forgive because we have trespassed not 
because we are magnanimous

most of us comfort because we need comforting 
our ancient rituals demand that we give 
what we hope to receive

        and how do we judge a man
we learn to greet when meeting
to cry when parting 
and to soften our words at times of stress

the women gather 
with cloth and ointment 
their busy hands bowing to laws that decree 
willows shall stand swaying but unbroken 
against even the determined wind of death

        we judge a man by his dreams 
not alone his deeds
        we judge a man by his intent 
not alone his shortcomings
        we judge a man because it is not unusual 
to know him through those who love him

the women gather strangers 
to each other because 
they have loved a man

it is not unusual to sift 
through ashes 
and find an unburnt picture


 = Joan Grant