Love sonnet for the harlequin trinity

For three we pass by in our inner-city.

loaded shopping cart(sm)

The man with sleigh bells and teddy bears
tied to the top of his walking staff,
his striding dance and crimson coat
flare up over the dark-faced city.

The woman bent over bunches of bags
beside the galvanized can with chained lid,
her bare head and grey-string hair and open coat,
a sinkhole secretly waiting for love.

And you, bright blend of Tiny Tim and Zappa,
your rainbow tights, broomstick and bindle bag,
your white knee-socks and chimney-sweep hat,
clogging along sidewalks wet with light,

so full of love, spilling it all out like nard
at the feet of Christ—Christ how I love you.


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