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Sally Murphy, Australian author

Poetry Friday: Last Supper

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It’s Poetry Friday and, after a brief hiatus where life got in the way of my regular Friday posts, I’m back!

But I’m cheating little bit this week, and sharing a poem I have already shared – because it’s Good Friday, and I’m busy, and I’d rather repeat myself than miss another Friday posting.  So, here is my poem about the last supper, which I wrote in response to a prompt at Poetry Tag earlier this year.

Last Supper

At that last supper
the men ate and drank
and hung on your every word,
little knowing it would be
their last meal together –
even when you, my heart,
told them one would soon betray you,
one deny.
Centuries later,
artists recreated that moment
showing your quiet virtue
their various states of adoration,
disbelief,
confusion.
What they forgot, those masters of the arts,
(or perhaps it was their priestly chiefs)
was that we women were there,
and children, too
not hangers-on
not underlings
but equals.

(Sally Murphy, 2015. All rights reserved)

 

Have a wonderful Easter weekend, whatever your beliefs. And if you’d like more poetry goodness, the Poetry Friday roundup is at the Poem Farm.

Comments

  3. It’s always so interesting to hear familiar stories recast from different points of view…Happy Easter, Sally.

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