feet and hands boundwith ropeI stand beforedeep watera liquid ghostripples of fear
should I prayto sinkinto this airless pitslow swallow of deathproof of innocence
or let my skirtfan into a floatin the graspof an angel’s handbetrayal of breatheven for one moment condemns me to fire […]
my grandfather’s face
sinks into red hollows
he snarls I’m a liar
makes me wash
in the clawfoot tub
drives my back
to St. Ursula’s
leaves me
with Father Sylvestre
to confess
statues of saints
watch from pedestals
witness what happens
so does the Madonna
she must hear my cries
yet when I look up
nothing has changed
she still holds her child
leaves me alone
with the priest
~ Mary Ann Mulhern
This poem is […]
