Shoulder to Shoulder

Shoulder the pain,
they said to her face.
Put your back into it
and the agony will lessen.

Wrap the miscreant in a white linen sheet.
Washed and pressed a thousand
times in clear cold streams.
Rubbed and worked on rough stones
by ancient biblical women
who knew a thing or two about pain.

Shoulder your burdens,
they said to her face.
It is not seemly to place
cares on another’s shoulders.

Take up the slack and fold
your exposed body in a shroud
that will cover you in life.
Any more importantly
wrap your body in death.

So she carried the pain,
in a knapsack tightly closed.
And put her shoulder to the wheel
of her heart and they were right.
The pain drifted away
on a bed of white clouds.

Shoulder to Shoulder

And she saw death for what it was,
when they opened the grave
and set aside the white linen sheet.

Laid down her knapsack beside the
olive tree and the women and
winged creatures saw her home.