POETRY: Six Holy Week Triolets, by L. N. Allen

Friday

Where I am going, you cannot follow now,
but you will follow afterward,
with prayers and sighs too deep for words.
Where I am going, you cannot follow now,
yet though a hundred pounds of myrrh and aloe
are between us, I will not leave you orphaned.
Where I am going, you cannot follow now.
But you will follow afterward.

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