Maundy Thursday

No connection. The train would be six hours

late, it was announced, and that Maundy Thursday

I sat for six hours in the airless dark

of the waiting room of Kocsárd’s tiny station.

My soul was heavy and my body broken –

I felt like one who, on a secret journey,

sets out in darkness, summoned by the stars

on fateful earth, braving yet fleeing doom;

whose nerves are so alert that he can sense

enemies, far off, tracking him by stealth.

Outside the window, engines rumbled by

and dense smoke like the wing of a huge bat

brushed my face. I felt dull horror, gripped

by a deep bestial fear. I looked around:

it would have been so good to speak a little

to close friends, a few words to men you trust,

but there was only damp night, dark and chill,

Peter was now asleep, and James and John

asleep, and Matthew, all of them asleep…

Thick beads of cold sweat broke out on my brow

and then streamed down over my crumpled face.