By linnea boese

Cross
(Matt. 11:28-30)

cross-eyed
I had no
single vision

life was a cross
I had to carry
and I was cross

at the tangled
criss-cross
web of weariness

and crass emptiness
(clouded crock)
case-hardened

then

cross my heart
it came across
brand new

old and rugged
time-tested
Christ’s cross

his cross purposes
tore across
my star-crossed life

crossed out
the non-sense
counterfeit

crossed over
from the heavens
to fill me

and

I took up
a new cross
supernatural

the crossbar
holds me
light as freedom