Our Lady – Rollo Nye

Our lady of the tragic glance
Floats on a torn string
Above her own ghost.
I think,
How can this be
This blue and white instance
Only when I close my eyes
I recognize my own mother
A whole life spent
Vapor
In a spec of light.

Rollo NyeRollo A. Nye is a poet hiding out somewhere in New York. His poetry has appeared in The Red River Review, and the Avatar Review.