TRIDUUM: HOLY SATURDAY
Yes, there’s a day for longing,
for lighting candles, looking out.
The wind blows back against the creek,
but the tide carries it out nonetheless.
A spectral cloud lies low on the bay
and billows fingers across the sky,
Advancing on the unsuspecting land,
visiting a chill on all who perceive.
We are waiting by the waters,
assuaging the unrequited recesses
we never dare to bare.
There is a solidarity of the hungering,
I alone am left.