The Scarborough Grace

By Michael Lista Michael Lista
An old man on Grace Street is going mad
In a Canadian T-shirt he won’t change
And red unwrinkling pants I thought had made
Him stylish when I met him in the spring —

Five or six times a day I see him walk
Down Grace Street to St. Francis church, and knock
And pull its wooden doors, always shocked
That his entitled holy place is locked.

Undreams Damascus from a baffled Paul,
Rolls back the road where some unstricken Saul
Rises up, as bubbles through a beer
To a surface where we disappear

And wake in some uncalendared forever,
An unwelcome Elijah passing over.

NOTES: Read the Q&A with Michael Lista about this poem

Source: Poetry (December 2012).


This poem originally appeared in the December 2012 issue of Poetry magazine

December 2012
 Michael  Lista


Michael Lista is the author of Bloom (House of Anansi Press, 2010). He is poetry editor of the Walrus and poetry columnist for the National Post. He lives in Toronto.

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Poem Categorization

SUBJECT Living, Growing Old, The Mind, Time & Brevity, Religion, Christianity

Poetic Terms Sonnet

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