The death gods do not live here anymore.
Codex after codex left the Mayan shores
for the cities of Europe by whose names
we came to know one relic from another.
Category: poetry
St Gobnait and the Bees
“She treasures their golden gift,
mixing herbs to make medicine
for sisters with coughs,
guests with aches,
even the itchy Abbey dog.”
Sometimes, I accidentally drown myself
“Sometimes, I lay in my bathtub
in the middle of the human night
let the water cover my nose and mouth
and wait”
St. Gertrude of Nivelles, in Childhood
“In the linden grove beside the stream
a soft-eyed girl in weeds bends down to see
a cat near death, his fur like cream”
Hosios Loukas, on the Slopes of Mount Helicon
“In this story of the hermit saint, one stoic thorn
from the rose honors the responsible
with blood and pain.
The moonlight, like an open door, questions and answers us.”
Basho’s Ghost
“A few drinkers are still awake,
lit by shadow
and a tallow candle.”
The Faith to Float
by Ellen Deitz Tucker That we do not fall betweenthe wide-spaced atoms plottingedge and surface in our world—that the world itself does not fall through us, that our bodiescan move…
JUDACULLA ROCK
The heavens mapped? The spent mind
of a wanderer mapped back upon his silent sky