100 Short Poems
Parish Church
In the nave, near the sacristy,
a large and bloody crucified Christ,
mouth agape, head back, eyes wide,
flanked by an insipid praying Mary,
distinguished only by glinting glass eyes
Woods after a Winter Storm
After a freezing rain overnight
in their silvered coats of heavy ice
the smaller branches all dip down
not unlike the elderly supplicants in church,
lost in prayer, who lower their heads.
Morning Mass
How empty the church seems
this midweek morning. In the pews
only two old women shawled in shadow
saying their rosaries. At the altar
the priest prays for all the missing.
The “Most Christian King”
was a title that Catholic popes traditionally conferred on
the kings of France. Some worked hard to prove it.
Francis I roasted heretics like spitted game before Notre Dame
with France's nobles and high ecclesiastics all assembled there
to affirm their stalwart allegiance to Christianity's "Prince of Peace".
Closed church
The pews all wear a coat of dust.
In the loft, darkness drapes the organ's gilt.
The stained glass dedications in a foreign language
Are inscrutable to the visitor's eyes
As if none are left who can read them.