Good Friday

“Have you heard the trumpets?” he asks.
He has. Once in Wyoming, and
once in Israel.

The pilgrims in the hot springs
nod in recognition and
soak their blisters.

I am a tourist in the waters.
It takes me longer to understand what
he is talking about –

The voices of angels.

I didn’t make the long journey to
touch the healing soil of
Santuario de Chimayo.

But, yes I have heard the trumpets.
To me, they sound like the calls
of migrating swans.

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