Robert Bohm

JOSEPH'S MEDITATION AS ENVISIONED ON THOMPSON ST.

Look. The stable's stench, the goats
eating hay from the baby's manger, the scrawny cows
that haven't given milk for days
asleep on their feet, this
is how holiness begins, among
the mess and stink of things, and the fact
thereÕs a child too, well
thatÕs just an afterthought, although its face, the color
of mud
and spattered with birth crud, is a sort
of saving grace, reminding us
that real salvation
breathes easiest where dung clings to our sandals
and daybreak belongs to those who, daring
the census-takers to find them,
migrate and survive.