This poem is taken from PN Review 36, Volume 10 Number 4, March - April 1984.
The Virgin Mary
All these oppressed her:
light's
Peremptory pure glare
In summer, and the weak
Pallor of winter air;
Men's breath against her cheek,
And fruitless unshared nights.
Her strange clothes hung in mute
...
light's
Peremptory pure glare
In summer, and the weak
Pallor of winter air;
Men's breath against her cheek,
And fruitless unshared nights.
Her strange clothes hung in mute
...
The page you have requested is restricted to subscribers only. Please enter your username and password and click on 'Continue':
If you have forgotten your username and password, please enter the email address you used when you joined. Your login details will then be emailed to the address specified.
If you are not a subscriber and would like to enjoy the 289 issues containing over 11,600 poems, articles, reports, interviews and reviews,
why not subscribe to the website today?