"Grace" Poem by Tyler Wettig

Marriage asks, indiscriminate: who dies first?

The human Christ, of his many doubts, would

posit nothing by the flesh alone. Surely I am no

fool, Lord—but I beseech that you know this

well, like all other things. If there is no time—

hours and days, those trivialities—then I pray

you not make it. Likewise, what would take you,

from my shroud, in remembrance of me?

Yesterday and tomorrow and always,

Fallen Savior: my legs, my feet, "my misery."

Tyler Wettig resides in Michigan, where he has worked in elementary and higher education. He has published three chapbooks of poetry and curated numerous anthologies. Tyler’s website: https://www.tylerwettig.wordpress.com.