Maundy Thursday

Between the brown hands of a server-lad

The silver cross was offered to be kissed.

The men came up, lugubrious, but not sad,

And knelt reluctantly, half-prejudiced.

(And kissing, kissed the emblem of a creed.)

Then mourning women knelt; meek mouths they had,

(And kissed the Body of the Christ indeed.)

Young children came, with eager lips and glad.

(These kissed a silver doll, immensely bright.)

Then I, too, knelt before that acolyte.

Above the crucifix I bent my head:

The Christ was thin, and cold, and very dead:

And yet I bowed, yea, kissed - my lips did cling.

(I kissed the warm live hand that held the thing.)