Good Friday in Jerusalem By Fred Donovan

Good Friday in Jerusalem

Soldiers command the rooftops while below
in a courtyard lined with orange trees
a crowd collects to walk along the Way of Woe.
Franciscan monks in robes and sandals wait
to lead the faithful to where (they say)
Jesus Christ endured his legendary fate.
In leftover Latin, the pious clergy pray
but cries of saber dance and beating drums
drown the sounds that flit then fade away.
Here, myths grow thick between stones
wearing away the mortar holding truth
in place: the story of a man alone.
On a nearby hill, breezes rustle olive trees
as a young man speaks of ecstasies.

Fred Donovan is an author and editor who writes about technology to make money and crafts poems to keep him sane. He has published poems in numerous journals, including Littoral Magazine, Freshwater, and Black Bough. He lives on Cape Cod with his family and enjoys walks along the beach.