This poem is taken from PN Review 36, Volume 10 Number 4, March - April 1984.

St Christopher

Dick Davis
Curled fingers tighten in his curly hair:
But if, by any prescience, he knows
The nature of that burden He must bear
Whom now he bears, no recognition shows.

The weathered body and tenacious mind
Venture like partners with but one intent -
Lo, they are one, as cautiously they find
The safe stones through the unsafe element.
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