TO ST. ANNE / by Joseph Castorino

 

As the wind blows,

Your wise brown eyes

Are covered by wisps

Of your brown hair;

You watch your

Little Maria,

Your saintly cherub,

Skipping away

With a smile;

Your finely furrowed brow

Is knitted in a knot,

As you are pensively

Waiting, wondering;

What does the Mighty One

Have in mind for my

Darling dark-haired daughter?

May the Messiah be on the move?