100 Short Poems

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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

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Nuns

My daytime mothers those first eight school years,
those women in black habits and white wimples
who carefully cultivated my ability to read and write,
deserved better than the prompted tepid thanks that,
without conviction, was all I ever gave them back.

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The Way

The guru they followed was a fraud
who cared for nothing beyond himself
no matter the devotion he received
from those who lost their own selves
following one who always guarded his.

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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.

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Imagination

helped the four faith-filled teenage girls
discover tears in the lifelike glass eyes
of the parish plaster Virgin Mary.
Not so long after, it led them to form a band
and cover songs by Dylan and the Beatles.

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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.

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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".

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