Poem on Becoming Disabled

I wrote this poem almost ten years ago, when I first realized I had to quit the job that I loved and apply for disability and other benefits.  Yes, there is a reason I'm sharing it now.  Maybe I'll explain later.  For now, here's the poem.

Confession

This is my confession:

these hands can work no more. 

I packed up my desk, took my coffee mug

and my rolodex.

Forgive me.

I took a vow of poverty,

emptied my ego and my bank account.

Forgive me my debts

in bankruptcy court tomorrow.

The county teaches a catechism of humility

daily at the welfare office.

First communion is served on Tuesdays and Thursdays

at the St. Francis soup kitchen.

Forgive me, I cannot swallow it.

Who is the patron saint of the disabled and of flightless sparrows?

Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for the stricken

and put your arms around the sparrow.

Amen.