You showed me your rosary;
it lay in the cup of your palm
like a coiled pink snake.
You explained the prayers
of each bead:
the Pater Nosters, Ave Marias,
some others lost to me
in the frost of time.
I remember that
narrowness of your fingers,
the frailty of thumbs,
your wrists
almost transparent
in their soft whiteness.
You showed me
the crucifix
connected by
rows of beads.
Prayers held here,
you said,
lifting the rosary
for me to hold.
I felt it,
********* the beads,
smooth as snails.
I looked at you
as you stood
watching me.
Your blonde hair;
blue liquidy eyes,
narrowness of frame.
I gave you back
your rosary
loaded with prayers.
It lay in your palm;
I wished I could lay
my hand there
where the rosary lay,
but I looked at you smiling,
but didn't say.
Nov 13, 2017
Nov 13, 2017 at 1:46 PM UTC
You showed me your rosary;
it lay in the cup of your palm
like a coiled pink snake.
You explained the prayers
of each bead:
the Pater Nosters, Ave Marias,
some others lost to me
in the frost of time.
I remember that
narrowness of your fingers,
the frailty of thumbs,
your wrists
almost transparent
in their soft whiteness.
You showed me
the crucifix
connected by
rows of beads.
Prayers held here,
you said,
lifting the rosary
for me to hold.
I felt it,
********* the beads,
smooth as snails.
I looked at you
as you stood
watching me.
Your blonde hair;
blue liquidy eyes,
narrowness of frame.
I gave you back
your rosary
loaded with prayers.
It lay in your palm;
I wished I could lay
my hand there
where the rosary lay,
but I looked at you smiling,
but didn't say.
A boy and girl in London in the in 1960
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