Pretext
 
As I made my way out of the double bind maze, and called
   “relevance” and “space” out for what they were,
it was Saturday. It struck me as I watched the snow fall
   that we were never entirely forsaken.
 
Maria Goretti stands straight in knee socks in the cold,
   miracles fit for Baby Tiger, as
stargazer lilies stand for our unwavering faith and
   the cut-throat day to day dyes our hair
 
first silver then white. Out my window, I never see the sun
   but its reflection on the white building between brick tenements.
Once upon a time, when I saw snow, I prayed for a snow day.
   Now, snow is mercy to the condemned.
 
In our ethnic enclave, the junkyard of Long Island,
   on the stark parking lot, on the concrete, inside the barbed wires,
overlooking the colorful shops, in this world of our own,
   I wondered if the snow meant I could trust that the crooked paths
 
could be made straight again for the pure of heart. The parishioners
   present Maria with Stargazer Lilies to honor her faith.
I smile remembering a client’s hope for all workers
   to receive what they deserve before continuing on my way.

Tiffany Troy

If you have any thoughts about this poem,  Tiffany Troy