Standing dead center in the cross
waiting for each one
as they trudge their mortality
down the long center aisle
to remember they are dust.
This woman’s gray-black hair pulled tight
from her smooth brown forehead,
canvas for my Ash Wednesday art.
This abuela with white whisps of hair
over parchment skin, reminds me
of standing in front
of my grandmother’s China cabinet
afraid I’ll break something.
This man has hair like sprayed plastic.
This woman holds a child and coffee cup.
This girl’s gold and pearl hair clip
shines above her ash cross.
A burly man presents himself
his hard hat
covered with decals
hanging from his backpack.
This woman leans in
as if for a kiss
and whispers, Amen.
I touch each brow with a blessing
that marks them as a work of art.
May you have a grace filled Lent.
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