Grotto To Sebastian
       

Resilient one, Namesake of my father's mother,
Patron of archers,
Patron of recovery, against the plague against
Suffering—or
the strength to eat it, you needed
two deaths finally
to reach Him whose love took, in
your heart, from
a whisper. Patron of spreading fire to
wet branches, confessor
of martyrs, counselor of soldiers—. Patron
of faith answered
with arrows. Patron of
the Lost Cause.

Sealing pain in with swaddling, so blood
pounds the joints
into motion, then no more. Patron
of lifting her head. Patron
of tranquilizers. Patron of being locked
in her room. Of
blue eyes with no ancestry. Being
so beautiful once. Of
asking for just another hour. And another
hour in her room
but without me.

Our bodies floating in the sewer,
and the one who finds us.
Being nursed back. The Lost Cause.
Forgiving your friend-
executioner. 70 times 7 faith answered
with fists. Taking
a beating once and for all. Dying,
listen to me:
for every arrow I have a prayer.
Whom do I seek?

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Copyright © 2022 Nicholas Regiacorte All rights reserved
from American Massif
Tupelo Press
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission