Shepherds
by Darlene L. Young
Don’t tell me about rose-cheeked Arcadian youth
gathering daisies on a hillside
piping tunes to their cloud-fluffy sheep
under the stars.
No, these were foul-smelling, lusty
men with dirty necks, greasy hands,
snorting, arguing, joke-telling, nose-picking
men–one wearing stolen
sandals (although I admit he felt
guilty about it)–gambling on who
had the best aim as they chucked rocks
at a nearby lizard.
You talk about salt of the earth—
these men were salty, alright
downright ornery, some of them,
fighting sometimes and yelling
at their wives when they were home,
which wasn’t often.
Yeah, I’ll grant you Dan
was an innocent
and Dave had some noble moments
and none of them was really evil
but they all had dirty fingernails
of one kind or another
when the light came–
yes, it came.
But don’t take away that moment just before–
flies whining over the sheep dung
and Jake and Zeke having a
spitting contest–
that’s the key moment, you see,
in all their grimy glory;
it has to be
because the light came to me, too.
Allelujah.
This poem copyright 2009 by Darlene L. Young. I love to share my work! Feel free to pass it around, but please make sure you copy it in its entirety and include my name. Thank you!
