Psaltery & Lyre

After the Vineyard is Lost

When the world goes / up in flame—even as the ash settles / to scar the skin—we go on in wonder

Christ entered the water / here, stepping from the cubic / shore.

Look at / the rows of children / instantly orphaned / crying Mami, Papi— / those long vowels / of perennial mourning

A door not a door / (hope pared, halved) / wavers through mist / and lilies

My father had watched the news and a fear grew inside of him, of brain-eating amoebae in lakes, so he never let me swim in them.

seek to find / in this universe / of white noise / / a winter crystal / of silence.

I’ve been baptized in the blood / of the lamb, and again, in the blood / of lambs. I keep both eyes open, / / pray while keeping track of my own.

When I pour out my grief over the leukemia / that has seized his body, she says think elephants.

slick with moss and missteps, sways side / to side from the first plop, scarce light / at surface, cove darkened with desire / and suffering samsara.