At Judas' funeral

By Carl Winderl

---

by his mother I
stood un-
 
alone, as Mother of
mothers, while the others draped
in black, gaped at
 
My Monday mourning blue,
in grief united
 
as are our boys
eternally,
on this so fair and foul a morn
whence in uni-
Son once
below,
and
 
on earth
 
him now lies
that He might rise
 
as It is in heaven
 
so that at his grave
where our mothers’ tears (Mine
  slid down my
  other cheek) water
the dirt,
 
near his mother’s feet (among
  women) I lay
 
anon a sad bouquet, so ophelian
 
of pansies, poppies, daisies
and of
 
oh, our sweet babies’ breath

---

Carl Winderl holds a Ph.D. in Creative Writing from New York University and maintains a home in San Diego, California.

'At Judas' funeral' is from Carl's new poetry book, The Gospel According. . . to Mary ​(Finishing Line Press, 2021).   

Other related work previously published on Foreshadow:
The Lord of Creation in His Mother's Arms​ (Art, January 2021)