Monday, February 22, 2010

St. Margaret of Cortona (against temptations, hoboes, the homeless, insanity, people ridiculed for their piety, reformed prostitutes)


your body was a murder

of crows in the forest. a way

for me to see the end, to look out

over the ledge and find nowhere to go

but up.


a good man’s love. eyes with no

light lie still in their sockets

as if they were stones worn smooth

by the water that never stops

rushing.


this sadness swells like a grape. loss is

a sunrise. God is someone to fall on.

your hound returns to me, tail wagging

at the door. his claws scrape my world

raw.



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