Janet Phelan

My breasts cave in
under the weight of interrogation
My pubic bone splinters
under the inquisitor's relentless gaze

What was once soft and tentative
petals/moss/leaves
melts down
condensed to its essence
so that something/anything
may survive

Nothing resembles what was
Nothing resembles what is

O God of harsh lessons
O God of Treblinka, Nagasaki, Darfur and Redlands
how can I be faithful
to your teachings?

God of second chances
of the sunlight slanting through the trees
as the boxcars run off the tracks
and overturn
the human cargo escaping into the woods
how can I divine your true intent?

Outside the bedroom window
the ancient oak also holds its breath
In the distance
someone is calling
I open the door
and the night pours in

and I follow