Sent off to boarding school
at twelve, with a pair of oxfords,
a pair of patents, my sterling
silver christening rosary
and two dozen name tags stitched
like drops of blood onto the collars
of starched blouses, I stare
down the hall, long and dim,
slippery from too many waxings.
Plaster statues of the holy family live
here, in cave-like niches, the Blessed Virgin,
her face soft and chalky, cheeks
powdered pink. Everything about her
is pliable; she is to be our model.
Joseph is nondescript, covered by
a long brown robe. The baby sleeps.
I eye the nuns, black and fluttery,
and my parents, in wool, with fur collars,
giddy with their new freedom.
I unpack my suitcase and survey
the territory. One iron bed,
one chest of drawers, one slender closet.
A crucifix pierces the white wall.
A dark trunk opens its jaws
to swallow my life.
Geraldine Connolly's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (New Territory by Geraldine Connolly )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
William Ernest Henley
- Roaring ready to go…, Mark Heathcote
- why does this have to happen, Happy Hippie Girl
- Sadness Of Living, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
- Blackened Bronze, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
- Child of the South, Leah Ayliffe
- Progressive Yearnings, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
- She Knows, Louis Borgo
- ZZ Was Hitler A Vegetarian, Saiom Shriver
- Palestinian DNA, Saiom Shriver
- Challengers for July's Contest - You Can.., Brian Johnston