Sitting in my blue chair reflecting on a whole series of things, in the Church, in the world, in our country. Seventy times seven, Catharine, seventy times seven. More fatted calves.
I want to understand
Oh
Any number of things
But
I want to understand
How many times
After someone has left
And returned
Left and returned
That the welcome home
Means killing
One more fatted calf.
How many times
Before
World-weariness
Settles in
And enough
Is enough.
Oh
I know the right answer
Is seventy times seven
But still
How many fatted calves
Are too many?
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