Monday, March 16, 2009

Jennifer Schatz and Edmund August

medium: acrylic painting on paper

At 60 I got a tattoo, a cross
in hard greens and blacks
bearing the words
faith, hope, and charity,
between my shoulder blades.

Sometimes I remember
that I’d forgotten about it
for a whole day, sometimes
day after day, even a week,
maybe more.

But it’s always there,
an inconsistent reminder
of what I want to believe,
and in that thought
I find a fleeting ease

until, in a waking dream
I sit, eyes closed, beneath
the cap of a toadstool,
my tattoo
snug against the stem,

and listen to a murderous rain
remind me
that for shelter to survive
it must be fed
from within as well as without.

-Edmund August

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