dying
the first day
at nightfall
glower and glimmer of the stars
falling down and
going out
darkness
the second day
in the chamber
behind the stone
the dark
speaks in its own tongues
syllables of silence of
gravity
in the garden the women
sit all day all night all day
as women do keeping
vigil keening
to the chill wind's
madness
rising
the third day
the earth turns
brings back the hush
of dawn –
and birdsong the
olive trees' whispers
sweet low voices of women
the first prayer a tongue
of light the utterance
of the one
Word
© Roselle Angwin
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