I take great delight in the
juxtaposition of peeling potatoes
with a priest going
"hammer and tongs
at the prayers for the dying."
Why must humans remind other humans
of their wrongdoings at the door of their departure?
As if the person approaching the door
isn't already exquisitely aware of them?
It's rather comical in a sad kind of way.
The love and intimacy conveyed
in the simple act of peeling potatoes together
brings tears to my eyes.
That's what matters as we each move toward our own door.
kastilwell
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