leave behind a subtle stain
like stigmata
or an ex-lover
like how I light a votive candle
for you every Lent
even now keeping vigil
over Mardi Gras beads
that dangle from the bulletin board
in my office
a shrine to that long bus ride
to New Orleans decades before
the blackout.
The wound solidifies in the abyss
of things left unsaid, a cicatrix
cherished like prayer.
–
Anne Yale is the author of Liturgy of Small Feathers. Her poetry has appeared in Chaparral, Blue Print Review, Zócalo Public Square, and California Quarterly. She is founder and editor-in-chief of Yak Press and originator of the Native Blossoms Chapbook Series. Although she’s been a resident of the Mojave Desert for over twenty-five years, she still claims she’s “just passing through.”