Bits of Yarn, Calico and Velvet Scraps                                                            Page 18

'Going to church' - an impossible confusion of

desire confronted by idols that mock the searching

heart of this woman. I don't find a place for me at

the Table.

Meaning? That is probably the worst thing, to live

without meaning, to feel as if I live without

meaning.

Loss and grief. Fear. What if there is only the void?

Nothing. Only the dark hand of death on me and

my world.

I am completely disoriented.

A body shrinking around its own

Corruption, though a long way from dying.

We suit our memories to our sufferings.

............ We live

As much as we believe.

All things covet an end.

............ Who can revive

A body settled in its final mood?

To whom, on what tide, can we move and live?

Vincent Buckley, 'Stroke'