I can really see Christ standing
in the glass kitchen, having a glass
of orange juice. But what he does
next I do not know. Does he say
the world is ugly and people are sad?
Is he fond of quoting Creation?
The view from the house is simple
and gorgeous, a long gold meadow
ending in a stand of birches.
Beyond that is anybody’s guess.
My guess being as good as anybody’s
I’d say there was a lake beyond the trees
where the trout turn to drink
as they sometimes do in their tiredness.
Yes, I can see him standing in the glass
house with the OJ sweet on his lips
and the view as good as it gets,
as far as it goes. Let’s leave him there,
for we have jobs to do and places to be
beyond the imagination.
Pyrite
Mary Ruefle
Mary Ruefle is the author of, most recently, Dunce. She is the recipient of numerous honors, including the 2017 Aiken Taylor Award in Modern American Poetry.