Sisters

To call for correct comment
Wearies, and weighs words with woe.

A Wedding in the Provinces


In prior days
I struck at hope.

Justice was a whore
Bringing corruption.

It was the greatness
Of change I sought.

Resisting kindness,
I shamed myself.

I thought myself
Soft and hid

From the beckoning
Life I wanted.


Then two gave me
To otherwise see.

Taste of a night when thus
Doubt parted:

I alone lay awake
As finality knew me;

I reached out with
Rare shudderings as.

Truth shattered; and
Art inhabited me

(Else life is war,
Pain and loss).

I filled with a poesy
Beyond thought and habit

As lofty sanctity dressed me
In new foundations:

I traversed a New Bridge
Which revealed me anew:

A Sister-in-Three.

Etched in masquerades
I feel pain.