YOUNG WOMAN IN A COUNTRY CHAPEL Poem by Rui Lage

Seated in a pew near the wall,
dark and fertile like tilled earth,
her eyes nodding off in the incense
that grabbed her waist
and brought her the early
morning's weariness.

Her black hair probing the cold
that came in through the door
someone left open,
with its view of the distant river
and the orange tree stripped
by the frost.

Death
on both sides of the door
giving entry
and suddenly the day
and then
nothing more.