My inner Pharisee

After Luke 15

I often talk with

my inner Pharisee.

I like to pretend

he’s not there, really,

but something happens,

always, to remind me

that he’s alive and well.

I avert my face from the beggar;

my inner Pharisee smiles.

I avoid that area of town;

he chuckles.

I ignore the poor

and sick; he laughs out loud.

My inner Pharisee is always

there, telling me he’s my friend,

when I know he’s not. But

he has a nice smile.

Photograph by Ahmed Zid via Unsplash. Used with permission.