Solemnity of Saints

Between All Hallows Eve

and All Souls Day

you set off, briefcase in hand

a crusader departing for the Holy Land.

White starched mantle and a red tie

you return a stained man.

You bring blood to my table

visions and the Holy Ghost.

 

I lose my appetite

for sacrificial lamb;

take a walk near a sea

which has spat up monarchs

unable to fight the wind.

Their exodus unattainable,

they drowned and are buried

between rock and sand.

 

Such delicate wasted wings.

 

The sun moon-pale

offers little in the way of affection

to shivering maples, who shed

garments for baptismal rites, in order

to enter the kingdom of snow.

 

I return to the kitchen

to find you have changed into

a hair-shirt, pleading forgiveness

between saints promising

a beatific vision of heaven.

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Biography