by Pavel Chichikov
I see the devil blowing in her face
And she, the soul, blows back to make headway
Fiery of temper yet rage-cold of breath
She curses angrily, rears up and shrieks
A puny hurricane of rage, uproar
Blown sideways, under, nostrils in the wave
The sky goes dark, there is no sun to fall
Instead a lid unmoving or a caul
To cover up a stillborn star
Her eyes abortions globular
Her lungs two filling bags
Scoop up her saline breath
Good and Blessed should be walking now
On that which cannot hold His weight
Unless His judgment waits
He should be walking now to save the mad
Who sink without His lightness,
Bluster helplessly
For this is what His miracle is for
To save what is not biddable
And needs to be unbreathing for a while
She will be still, she will be silent, heed
The foam of dissolution overhead
And the footsteps gliding on the crest of it
Visit Pavel's website at Grey Owl Press.
Note: Pavel will read selections of his poetry at Franciscan University (Steubenville, OH) on January 25, 2002. For more information contact Professor David Craig of the Department of English.
