Paternoster

that night     a wreck     a face    her teeth
beneath   a wheel   her dress         your grief

that night     a field     for deer           a breath
the sound      of bells       a child            to grieve

a name         a womb     to fill     with glass
and dye         its knots     to test     our grief

has mass     will bloom     will burn     like gas
will smoke     a harbour       bright with grief

tonight     a show for     bricks     a tithe
of brass      and dirt     a spine     to grieve

to run     each street       to church     a raft
of ash              raise high     the beams     for grief

R.A. Villanueva