ALONE IN IONA CATHEDRAL
I thought I felt his breath there,
an opening
in my palms, while tourists knelt outside
bothering graves.
Was it just a dance of wind through
an old worn door,
a chance of sunlight and shadow as I
prayed?
Since then I’ve been watchful, quoted
half-forgotten
Sunday school blessings, primed
myself for signs:
dark skies smoking blood in a place
far away,
the sea salting claims on what’s mine.
>
THESE WORDS ARE MY SHARDS
Light Winter Bruise Tides Palms Song
Winter Bruise Tides Palms Song Light
Bruise Tides Palms Song Light Winter
Tides Palms Song Light Winter Bruise
Palms Song Light Winter Bruise Tides
Song Light Winter Bruise Tides Palms
North Keening Kite Moon Bones Muscle
Keening Kite Moon Bones Muscle North
Kite Moon Bones Muscle North Keening
Moon Bones Muscle North Keening Kite
Bones Muscle North Keening Kite Moon
Muscle North Keening Kite Moon Bones
Snow Rich Salt Squabble Red Turn
Rich Salt Squabble Red Turn Snow
Salt Squabble Red Turn Snow Rich
Squabble Red Turn Snow Rich Salt
Red Turn Snow Rich Salt Squabble
Turn Snow Rich Salt Squabble Red
North