by Russell Willis

A single one returned with thanks
Were there not ten?

As the women mourned, his closest friends hid
Were there not eleven?

He had one more chance to affirm his friend
Were there not three?

On one day a week, we worship God
Are there not seven?

And yet the answer is always the same
Get up and go on your way

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Ethicist, online education entrepreneur, and Pastor, Russell Willis, emerged as a poet in 2019. Since then, his poetry has been published in American Writers Review 2021, Last Leaves, Vermont Public Radio – Between the Lines Series, Atherton Review, Sledgehammer Literary Review, Intangible Magazine, 433, Breathe, Peeking Cat, As Above So Below, Grand Little Things, Frost Meadow Review’s Pandemic Poetry, October Hill, Cathexis Northwest, Meat for Tea, The MOON magazine, Snapdragon: A Journal of Art & Healing, Tiny Seed Literary Journal, The Esthetic Apostle, The Write Launch and nine anthologies. Russell grew up in and around Texas, was vocationally scattered throughout the Southwest and Great Plains for many years, and is now settled in Vermont with his wife, Dawn. Russell’s website is REWillisWrites.com