Poem: “Stations”

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Stations

One sits beside Him
And He knows He sits alone.
That one will kiss Him
Then be on his way.

A true friend longs to be there
Should something happen
On a night,
Where no joy lingers

In a windy desert that
Howls its danger,
Past the praying
Though most are sleeping

A true friend stays there
When flesh is scourged
When thorns become crown
When nails pierce flesh

The friend comforts Him
When he is mocked-
And is there at His feet
As death happens.

Michele Marie

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