Door of Air: Poems by Morgan Yasbincek

By | 1 February 2022

Lady of sorrows

we both see the heart in the eye of the tempest
three swords piercing yes, she says, mater dolorosa
our lady of sorrows

later on the beach, land
birds pose on the sand, wagtail says what are you
going to do about it, wrens pop out of rose geraniums, butterflies
prance in couplet over dune vegetation before their eternal
separation by heavy breathing winds, imagine all the salt and water
of human tears, anguish roaring up into this wind, gulls spring out
of the way, like marionettes, in distaste

in Zagreb in a tiny alcove off a laneway
women bring their salted lives
into a cavern made hotter with hundreds of fluttering
candles, melted wax shovelled off stone floors like warm
cheese, prayers vie with smoke, stone worn into
knee-shaped hollows

bodies glyph their shameless revelation, this is how
generations creep from hope to
hope, through wars, dictatorship, the ripping of one’s
only blanket out of empty hands, the numberless lost

effort of walking here, waiting to enter the flow
of a mercy, to kneel where others might
have received touch, this place like the
womb of the sterile mother, understanding
between women who carry bent bodies onward
into a time where meaning gifts life with life

second coming’s a context of moving faceless
black without pause

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