Poems and prose/Gedichten en literair proza By/Van


From a distant window
I saw you
a victim
among your cronies
carrying long chains
like a cross
on your shoulders

You were
Christ among
his disciples
when you disappeared
from sight
into the ditch
of Gethsemane

I met you once again
your head resting
on your folded fingers
singing softly for me
I am a prisoner
I burn with desire