His head droops low beneath a mocking crown.
His last breath spent in calling to the wind.
“It is finished” were the words onlookers heard.
Mary grieves; the Son of Man has died
Nicodemus and old Joseph ask for John to help
to climb the ladder and take the Rabbi down.
Old Joseph has a rough hewn tomb of stone;
There they will lay the body in the ground.
The day grows dark and windswept;
large drops of rain, like teardrops, coming down.
Mary has only the comfort of the Magdalene’s embrace
As the men, with a hand drawn cart,
Struggle to take the crucified one away.
No carrion bird, no wild dog
shall feast on the King of the Jews.
The other two were not so lucky.