Wednesday, February 10, 2010

St. Scolastica (patron of convulsive children, nuns. She is also invoked against storms and rain)

Hold the doves with both hands. Their feathers

shudder under your sleeves. In this white storm,

your eyes look like flooded basements. Shoulder

blades are the stumps of wings, constantly

about to sprout, almost breaking ground. We

all lived in mansions, but we didn’t know we were

poor. There is an art to descending a staircase

with the wood half rotted, the windows on the

landing shaking in their panes. This is a house

half-tumbled. Release the birds. They will hurry

to the fireplace, swoop up and out our chimney,

sing like smoke.

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