Polish Poetry



Grandmother's warm room
smells of prayers and lavender
The guardian angel
curiously gives ear
to check if I, for sure,
whisper every word
of my evening prayers
so that I might calmly
say AMEN
The saints look
with authority on my grimaces
and all of them
turn their heads
in embarrassment
at my question:
Why does Jesus again
Today hang on the cross
When, after all,
yesterday and today
I was Polite?


Lucia Opiela



Return to Polish Poetry


This page, maintained by The Marian Library/International Marian Research Institute, Dayton, Ohio 45469-1390, and created by Scott Hofmeister , was last modified Thursday, 04/23/2009 13:25:32 EDT by Michael P. Duricy . Please send any comments to jroten1@udayton.edu.

URL for this page is http://campus.udayton.edu