Friday, March 22, 2013

Nuestra Señora de la Llama

 Nuestra Señora de la Llama

Mostly she is light,

Hiding a fire inside herself,

fingering the memory of matches.

She consoles herself with blood.

She consoles herself with salt.

She consoles herself with the pungent scarf

of your damp hair.


She ventriloquizes rain

as the myth of pure white

plays itself out

on the black whale’s back.


Never dropping her gaze,

Our Lady strikes fire on her bootsole.

 Nancy A. Henry

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