Who carries bows for these violins
stacked, welded with rusted symphonies
from seasonal rains?
Sparrows chirp on chipped moon surfaces
next to apocalyptic letters of love.
The tangled arms of chrome
primates evolve into the generation
after your own.
Count the heaving ribs of a horse
who galloped with abandon
leaving wood splinters in misty fields.
The tortured man hangs upside down—
one spent hour he sways for eternity
in the confines of his fitted suit
patterned with crucifixes.
Pull the chain and a soft peal for atonement
rises above mulch and pine needles
near the Madonna and child
untarnished before you for one thousand years.
from her book Ethereal Avalanche
Used by permission of the poet.
Listen to Gina Ferrara’s
“Besthoff’s Sculpture Garden”