Job
by Abby Bland (student, William Jewell College)
Job sits
In his pile of ashes
Pile of ashes,
Skin bubbling,
Sackcloth burning,
Bound in the chains of his undoing.
And silent he sits,
He sits silent
As the sky
Waiting without whirlwind.
Leviathan whines and the earth shutters…
What is man that he must suffer
What is man
What is man that he comes from the womb and
God should notice
What is man that he may speak and
Ask what he is?
Whirlwind 