In Her Lamentable Over-Religiosity

Every night she would hear the organ and the bells
skittering like feral sounds between the houses and the woods.
She would only wake up after all was still
unfailingly relying on following the good.
On a morning marked by a bank of angry cloud
covering half the sky dark below and lit upward
by the easily rising sun across to the other side
positive and negative welded like a steel bridge
unnaturally unmoving, as solid as a billboard.
On a morning much like this or more exactly
the woman woke to realize everything was manicured
and realized she had been dreaming an alternative.
She could feel it coming up her elegant throat
the word she could not say, the barking of a cat.
In her lamentable over-religiosity
she was not allowed to be anything but constant.
In her pressed pajamas covering up her conscience
she stood by the open window and felt so closed.
A dove in an attic, a mouse locked out of a house,
a perpetrator on the run, or a victim in his corner.
Threats were being made upon her secrets.
Pure water and rich dirt upon her inklings
dripped and poured, gifts out of the split sky.
Like a tree understanding that thunder is coming
her root and trunk resolved to stand against the crashing.
‘Why try?’ said the chattering birds and crickets
‘Who you fooling?’ chortled all the silent streets
‘God help me’ whispered her cold and still-bare feet
What if and what if not argued back and forth a breeze.
‘I need my pills, I need my tea, I am the same as ever.’
‘I will swallow I will call upon the regularity
of humanity in its most civilizing reverie and
put on shoes, and choose the right, stop this nightly
carnival of drowning in the promise of breakthrough.’
And so another day passed throwing sheets and blankets
over wrinkles, over pebbles, over the woody walkway
away from the cottage and the yard into the ambiguity
of multiple paths worn by multiple feet over myriad
years of mornings much like or more exactly like
this one that left a little crack where leverage will
expand like a seed, will continue to succeed
and will one morning tear down this consensual wall
the bridge will either collapse or be walked across
allowing nakedness and letting the cat bark.


About mrsorenson

NOT my president
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