Your crimson vestment
can’t be camouflaged,
like sparrows,
by lush greenery,
my stubborn
and elusive muse.
At daily Matins,
I seek you out
beg your vermilion
sun to cross my path,
follow your
chant, more spiritual
than fire-and-
brimstone sermons of
mitered men, vents
for the Holy Ghost.
Only Your spirit
breathes inspiration,
confirms me,
enlightens my soul.
Fiery tongue –
you leave me breathless,
fitful stirrings
of a poem in reach.
Words orbit me like
vultures. I sing their
chorus, stop their flight.
Your holy scribe, I
transcribe them
first, verbatim, then
adorn the page
with one red bird.
Author’s Bio:
Linda Simone’s poetry has appeared in numerous anthologies and journals, and has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize. Recent publications include poems in Assisi, Cyclamens and Swords, and in the anthology Lavanderia; others are forthcoming in Assisi and in the anthology, Wait a Minute: I Have to Take Off my Bra. Her chapbook, Cow Tippers, won the Shadow Poetry Chapbook Competition.
that is a beautiful bird, thank you for posting that poem too
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