Ophelia Bodelia (“Bodie” to all her friends)
Knelt in the dusty church pew, thinking about amends.
Greatly burdened, she bowed her head and started to pray,
Please forgive me Lord for… those things I’d rather not say.
That Ash Wednesday, her forehead marked with a cross of soot,
Fighting a sneeze, with tingling knees and a sleeping foot,
When asked to name what she planned to give up, she joked, “Dust.”
The second she spoke, all seemed obvious. Go, it must.
~ (a work in progress by) Camp Host Chad
(To Be Continued)