May 2007  

Altars Everywhere    ©    by    Susan Lefler
 

Full moon paints the cloud bank, iconostasis
looms above the lake, clouds skim the shrine.

Water moves like a live thing,
its holy font filled to the brim like a shrine.

Hoop of steel hangs from a tree,
stones stacked on the rim like a shrine.

Plastic orange bouquet tied with purple string,
the oak tree's hollow limb a shrine.

Off the Georgia coast, circles of oyster shells
where centuries have dimmed the shrine.

Crosses and wreaths on the highway shoulder,
grassy places rendered grim with a shrine.

The wall in Washington with endless names
reflects each tear, its stone hymn a shrine.

At the labyrinth, robin eggs and little bells,
silver pendant, bits of glass, every whim a shrine.

Emu feathers, turtle shells, and dragonflies,
poet's fears stemmed with a shrine.

Previously published in the North Carolina Poetry Society's
Pinesong: Awards 2006. Used with the poet's permission.
NOTICE: The copyright © for this poem belongs to the poet.