By Eva Dias Costa in Signals — 13 Jun 2025

#12. For Francis.

The shepherd went barefoot
more often than they expected.

He did not raise his voice.

He folded his hands
in ways that made power nervous.

The shoes of the fisherman
were left at the door.

He wore silence like cloth —
not always clean,
but never stiff.

When he walked into rooms,
some bowed,
some turned away,
and a few — very few —
sat up straighter.

He did not fix it.
He did not burn it down.

But there is one less breath now
in the halls of the broken temple.
And the dust has noticed.