The holes in the floor of the barn
you warned me of –
holes near the open, wooden
door, you pointed out –
bats in the belfry? Bats in the
maple, or god awful – in my hair!
The holes in the floor of the barn
near a framed picture of the
Blessed Virgin Mary… The framed
picture you gave to your therapist,
a symbol of hope; did he understand?
The holes in the barn close to the
horses living near the black river,
near the foot of a mountain,
on the side near a cemetery
where trees grow up and out
of marble.
The holes in the barn had their own
voice; like the Blessed Virgin Mary,
who pretended everything
was fine.
