Southern Cathedral
stained glass hangs in leafy curtains/
green, green, green/
between brown columns…
LEARNING TO FLY
Before they knew how to fly they watched birds/all that flap & flutter of feathers…
Silkworms and star clusters, butternuts and alevins
They are tiny. Whiplash spines with two dark eyeballs and a sagging orange egg sac belly. They torpedo along the bottom of the pale blue trough, crowd each other. I can’t see the fins that beat invisibly, thin as a breath, as one by one, each in its own mysterious time, the tiny fish struggle…
Psalm 139 Revisited
Search me not, for dust is what you’ll find.Divinely-made, but dust remains, from whatAn image once contained in flesh and blood. Search me some, for likeness fair – a faceTo nameless fear – still stays inside.A place to hide abides within, amid The Me, the small-fall character once full,Rife with life and love and piety.So…
Return to normal
Riopelle exhibit of bronzes and canvaseshidden for months behind a digitalinterface; pixelated representationslonging for in-person encounter. Surprise government opening of museumswith limited time slots available.Join a cohort of the freewalking those familiar, high-ceilinged rooms. Art gallery visit, not as imagined.Running late with a warning in mind:“Arrive 15 minutes earlyor lose your visit.” Rush through revolving doors andup the…
Onion Dome
COVID compounds our losses. In this poem, Jennie narrates to us her own experience of the unthinkable: losing access to her church when she needed it most. We are grateful to Jennie for sharing this intimate, candid journey with the readers of CC. I.When you are raisedunder an onion dome of a roof,where icons watch…
Family Life | Poetry | Reviews
Saying goodnight with love and imagination
Before his death in 2019, Lee Bennett Hopkins, renowned children’s poet, anthologist, and author of more than one hundred books, compiled this selection of gentle, imaginative goodnight poems by 13 poets. A child’s bed, pillow, blanket, rocking horse, book, and more are celebrated. Creatures like dogs are appreciated. Dreams are anticipated. Guardian angels are welcomed….
They, We: Post-Easter poetry
Every two weeks or so, a friend organizes poets. She is living with cancer, and the poets were an idea to keep social during what can only be classed as difficult days. The poets used to be in the habit of meeting in person once a month for a reading and open mic session hosted…
‘Efficient’ Eden?
It’s tempting to follow the utilitarian ideal – “designed to be useful or practical rather than attractive” – when thinking about the population of this world. We need, say some, to use every square inch of space to feed a rapidly increasing population. Combine this concern with mechanization and extensive agriculture, and all sorts of…
A COVID Via Dolorosa
It is the forsakenness of it all. Long before that piercing cry,Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani,long before that God-forsakenness on the cross,Jesus is forsaken on the Via Dolorosa. Here on that road of sorrow,he is devastatingly alone. No one leading him out.No jeering crowds.No virus-carrying spittle.No bloodthirsty mobs.No mocking soldiers.No politicians inciting a riot.No one washing…
February blessing
Now it’s February. We can’t forget it’s the month to celebrate Black History (I highly recommend I. Wilkeson’s book The Warmth of Other Suns), and there are some who like to acknowledge St. Valentine on February 14. Yet, I must admit, I’m finding it hard to write about non-COVID-19 things. After almost one year, this…
