Sonnet
Monsieur turned the altar into a round stage.
Covered the floors with a magenta and scarlet rug.
He left the pillars, stained-glass procession—The Agony
and The Ecstasy, and the confessionals, those dark rooms
where men hide behind a curtain listening to trembling women,
only to whisper into the naked ear, Three Hail Mary’s.
The sacristy full of blood and flesh stood with candles
dissolving in cylindrical glass tubes, donation boxes full.
The last time I stood in that arena—
I was listening to a soloist hit the high notes, Ava Maria.
My right leg wouldn’t quiet, quaking beneath my skirt.
Her casket just inches away. The darkness surrounds us, I said to my dead mother.
When I return from a recent trip my autocorrect types, I am hope,
for I am home—and I am sick. My love replies, you are America.
Mary Lou Buschi (she/her) authored 3 full length poetry collections. BLUE PHYSICS (2024) (Lily Poetry Review). PADDOCK (2021). Her poems appear in Ploughshares, Glacier, On the Seawall.