I brought you to the cloistered life
But you made a ribald nun
In your habit of turquoise and lapis.
Always you flaunted your worship
Of the more ancient god --
Wearing his silks across your breast,
Telling your rosary in almond shells,
Your matins and vespers sung
To the surge and swell of a
Primordial river.

In memoriam
Macintosh 1969 - 2000
Martha Mohney Schneck