Sunday, June 3, 2012


The flowing dress, flowered print--
            cross between cloister habit
            and Hawaiian muumuu--
she wore with socks and trainers
            set her apart from all the rest.
            A bag lady with a distinctive style,
her hair cropped and straight.
            Hard to recognize the Bennington
            coed or the monastic oblate
in the ordinary comfort of someone          
            barely noticed on the street.
            Yet, her disarming insight
controlled her audience, made each one  
            feel somehow like her best friend.
            With candor and objectivity
she explored her struggle with acedia,
            her acceptance of life circumstances
            she couldn't/wouldn't change.
We saw Hawaii through her eyes,
            eyes primed by viewing roses
            among the scrap in Elizabeth.

No comments:

Post a Comment