Wednesday, November 17, 2010

St. Elisabeth of Hungary (patron of hospitals, nurses, bakers, & brides)


one night, my fingers

turned into skeleton keys.

I tried to open all

your doors.

my affection for you

now stands, knees knocked,

arm in a plaster white cast.


I played a song

just for you

on the radio.

I faltered when I held

the mic to my mouth,

stuttered my way through

names & titles.


I opened the oven

and my bread had turned

to roses.

the petals curled in the heat,

against the dead of winter.

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