Novice by Terry Savoie
"Take away a man's mask and there'll be a cold sun And there only the dead bask" Gregory Corso Benedictine thru & thru, the Brother broods his way along Old Saint Joe's, that long abandoned logging road. Beyond & above the thickening pines, morning breaks open as golden & surprisingly tender as a young hen's yolk on his breakfast platter. Brother is the mirror of Christ, sporting his newly recycled, tire-tread sandals ordered express freight from the environmentally conscious outdoorsman's catalog (but sockless?) while his head is crowned for this occasion in a knitted-blue, watch cap although it's in the dead middle of a tinder-dry August. Black gnats, legions of them, halo the divine steam lifting off. This novice is simplifying, head bowed, ignoring the miraculous, doe- eyed coed, long-legged, jogging toward him along the forest road. How much calmer, even than the Lord himself, could he possibly be? Ignorance & sin, once again, thank heaven, swiftly pass on by. Collegeville, MN - August, 1993

All contents copyright © 1997,
The
Blue Moon
Review, All Rights Reserved.