Lady Macbeth of Amalfi

The Madonna wears black lace and a sinister crown
as though she were already on a pageant cart
swaying through the city streets.
She looms over Christ outstretched on a bier,
at the scene of crime, reminding us
that of course it is all our fault.

It is always the mother’s fault.


Upstairs Room

                              “My wall is loosening” -  W.B. Yeats

I have moved to the top of the house,
so solid and spacious once.

This is where I sleep now
where the wind howls
and everything rattles.

The rest is a distant memory.

Kathryn Southworth

If you have any comments on these poems, Kathryn Southworth  would be pleased to hear from you.