That polished, hot smell
like a room closed too long”
is there an open flame?
Such flickering in the shadows,
swirls of marble, sea pebbles,
then deep forest green.
How is it I see these now?
In those hours from four to sext,
do your reading, daughters.
You will have from Easter
to October for outdoor work.
Test the candles, Clementia”
that sweet scent. See them lit.
Hang them in the hallway
outside the chapel. For thirty days,
remember, after I am dead.
Did I not say that I would die
in mid-September? Too long
this dryness in my marrow.
That form on the wall,
the crest and dagger of purple”
and there, a yellow orb,
a diamond flanked by darts.
Those colors, Clementia, in the center”
gold and red, cerise, then amber”
how like arcs of lightning.
The light of Christ.
Let the rainfall be grace.
Let this green earth take me.
Time is short, so I’ll be direct: FIRST THINGS needs you. And we need you by December 31 at 11:59 p.m., when the clock will strike zero. Give now at supportfirstthings.com.
First Things does not hesitate to call out what is bad. Today, there is much to call out. Yet our editors, authors, and readers like you share a greater purpose. And we are guided by a deeper, more enduring hope.
Your gift of $50, $100, or even $250 or more will bring this message of hope to many more people in the new year.
Make your gift now at supportfirstthings.com.
First Things needs you. I’m confident you’ll answer the call.
