poetry by j matthew waters

hosanna hey sanna

a lone dove circles
high above ancient metropolis
well-trained in surveillance
and deception
like a modern day drone

miles away at desert’s edge
a lone donkey materializes
out of thin air
soon to be surrounded
by a dozen escorts
crawling towards the city

cloaks and branches
line inner city streets
crowds abuzz and growing
all eyes witnessing
21st century possibilities

december two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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