weight of the world

the priest comes to me
in his full
black gown.
his white collar
wilted and dirty, smudged
with life.
he looks tired.
he looks
sad, dour
and done.
he asks if he can sit
for awhile
and talk.
I bring him a chair,
and listen
to his sins, his doubts.
I tell him
we're all in the same
boat
which makes him laugh.
I knew a girl once
when I was
younger, he tells me.
I loved her more than
anything under the sun.
I wanted to marry her one
day.
I wonder where she is now,
if she'd have me
back.

I bring him a cup of hot tea.
he takes it and says,
I wonder why i'm so sad
when i'm so close
to God.
I say nothing. I've got
nothing.
he stands up to leave,
sipping on the tea.
we shake hands.
I watch him walk back
to the church, down the narrow
path through the woods
with
the weight of the world
on his shoulders.
he still doesn't get it.