Birch wood hair and a bastard dog

Walking alone
Spied by stubborn boys
With big green eyes
Stopping to see
His Birch wood hair

Walking alone
During the day of
Communion cups
And blood dripping
Dripping down
From his thorn crown

Walking empty
Through the rock stares
Thrown his way

Walking on the path
Lined with cedars
Limping to the judgments
Folks bring to the
Evening table

I am walking
With sins and tin cups
And a bastard dog