Lent is starting as I type these lines on my laptop, Ash Wednesday comes.
Evening has fallen on Mardi Gras and the Krewes, Courires and balls end.
No longer do wild horns, clashing glasses and the beat of Africa’s drums
Tell each of the season with mask and costume that names defend.
Bare our faces and walk into the aisles of a church for ashes,
Every rosary filled hand that late tied bows and sashes,
Gives the words of dust, death and sin an open ear.
I spent much of carnival on political blogs not drink.
Nonetheless, its season colored my way to think.
So I now stand in other stead, see truth and not blink.
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