See her stagger
as they drag her
through the city street.
Hear them twitter,
watch them stare
as they set her,
without care,
at the Master's feet.

See her cower
as they query
what to do with her.
Watch Him, weary
of evil games,
take stick in hand,
write in sand
secret sins and names.

Now all are gone
save two alone.
He wipes her tears,
dispels her fears;
does not condemn
her more than them.

*

Many a stone
I have thrown;
yet, had I thought
(as well I ought)
a bit more love,
I should have known
glass is what
my house is made of.