Stone Cold Statues
Stone Cold Statues
Clothe the saints.
Whosoever sees their flesh
will be damned to the great kiln.
I love their garments, the sculptor’s breath
on billowing stone, their faces white
like hosts of God turned man,
of bread turned God, and sinners
turned harmless in unleavened circles.
I am not of the miracle life.
I only understand the statues'
never-wavering watch as their
clothing flows obdurately soft.
©Kathryn McL. Collins
|