Mary's Eyes


My eyes water
And a sneeze rises
As insistent as nausea
And every blue shadow
Becomes a spangled cave
No amount of squeezing
Can blot out the pulse
I look too often at the light

That One came first
In another darkness.
Not in my cool shuttered hall

A Visitor
Young smooth feet dusty
Erasing in grit a guilty trail
Fingering my sandal strap


Still they ask me what
I saw
Only my arm thrown up
To ward off
That bright empty shape or
Black tear

In my maidenhood. 
Bending like a whisper
Its graven robe
Immortal lies.
And after,
Even shade was shadow,
Cool comfort lost to mystery.

I wouldn’t skip the next
For other miracles
Nearer death
And less divine
Mine was the salty tide
My arms the shore
Myself the coiling cave
Didn’t his arms lock
Around my neck? Do you think
That nether Father

kept him from the dark?
My dim lamb dreaming
He stumbles on a pitted hill
He was tied to me
Little fish in a mighty sea 

Squint at any tongue of flame
A flickering aura swells
And through a tearful prism
His halo’s just another trick
Of light and pain.
Under my blistered diadem
A jewel-studded megrim
Rubies oozing mirrors and lost time
This at least is mine.

No silence while the hosts proclaim
No awning for the Queen of Heaven
No cool recess
My eyes water yet
I’ve looked too often at the light.

On Mayday Eve

Translation No. 2. Tattered Verse