Prayer Net

While angsting about my discarded clothes a friend told me about a phenomenon which is taking place not just in Ukraine but all over Europe.

Read on and watch the videos

They're singing songs all over Ukraine

as they sort and dye, snip and cut,

fabric, blankets, even ladies' tights

folded and woven, thumb over finger over thumb-

Simulating  their own hedgerows

mosaics of leaf foliage of greens and browns

of earth's changing hue, mirroring the seasons

and strung on nets meant for fishing and play,

a canopy of handmade prayers and patriotic songs and hope-

Homespun now 

to deter

to deflect drones 

to defend Homeland

to stay bombs

to save lives.

Copyright 2023 Cathy Leonard All rights reserved

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K7mbIs8uWOc 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rvOtq0lqev8

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mdZ5KuNuUjs

The Sister

 

Recently asked to say a word at my sister's funeral I found myself recalling her early days....

She was an artful dodger

Adept at breaking rules

The proverbial rebel spirit

Never headlined in The News.

 

From fairy on the Christmas tree

To urchin in the street

Morphing from clean to dirty

Was quite her special feat.

 

Macavity, the mystery cat,

She emulated him

For managing to stir things up

And setting up a din

 

But when you went to find her,

Like any dodger worth her salt,

She was long gone from the podium

She never did get caught.

 

The bafflement of Oaks Road

The Mercy nuns’ despair

For when you reached the scene of crime

Well, Maire wasn’t there….

Maire 1950-2023

Copyright 2023  Cathy Leonard All rights reserved

The Reckoning

I suffer the agonies of the damned

Dante lost in the Dark Wood

when I attempt to purge myself 

of cast- off clothes.

For they are either clean slates

material for Paradiso

bought on a whim

perhaps in a bargain basement

an offer not to be missed

but never worn

marking me  waster, hoarder

consigning me to Upper Hell

in eternal flight from swarms 

of stinging wasps and hornets

Or they are old travel companions

trusted friends, steady Eddies

worn thread bare in my service

thrown aside by my treachery

a much graver offence 

consigning me to the city of Dis

 and the lowest, darkest circle of Hell

 to a frozen lake and a river of wailing.

So that is why I waver

and the charity bags pile up

and I beat my chest Mea Culpa

In the hope of salvation

and the prospect of purgatory.

Though I am probably 

 by Dante's reckoning

a lost cause....

Copyright 2023 Cathy Leonard All rights reserved

 https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Inferno_(Dante)