Monday, December 6, 2010

St. Nicholas Day

for friends in Marfa, December 2004

Her broken body, torn through with disaster—

hurricanes of disease—wallowed through December,

neighbors delivering casseroles and breads,

delivering clean laundry and bedside

stories. That year, she’d no sense of advent—

her body, present and pained and now, was the only

earth she knew, though in her desperation, like gold,

the townspeople’s gifts, her chimney, fat and full,

a chute through which a not-yet-known saint, and Savior, fell through.

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