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May 17, 2005

The Colonial Convent
A poem from León

What serene calm
Perfect symmetry of line
Cleary in tune
God's own design
Futile excuse
This serene calm
Cloistered smiles
Smoke of candles
Melting the night
Church bells sing
Clearly in tune
Jesus is coming
Son be warned
Christ's forgiveness
Clean hands of blood
What sister can lie
Her brother has done
All these sins
Forgiven at once
Humanity outside
These elegant walls
Perfect symmetry of line
Is being exterminated
One at a time.

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