Photography © Jennifer Matthews
Madonna sat in the back seat
of a police cruiser. She wasn’t under arrest. She was found
in a North End storefront looking
from within a halo to the streets of souvenir eyes: key chains
and t-shirts that read I love pasta!
Michelangelo’s David printed on aprons, the leaning tower of Pisa.
And there she stood a pearl in a shell, pure
and unadulterated: a young girl leaning in with her nose to the pane,
reflections reflecting in her reflections,
nothing more Italian than the Virgin she thought. And the girl
remembered coming to America
and the pennies her father threw in the water, and how she prayed
for safety in New York Harbor.
So she had to have the Madonna. Her weight was heavy but the price
was fair. The girl carried her through the streets
of Boston and the people stared. They were witnessing a miracle.
The little girl held Madonna in a parade
of one person marching. She stopped in the church for rest and water.
She knelt in the pew and closed her eyes.
Pina said the priest What brings you here? The stained glass
told stories almost as colorful.
He gave the sign of the cross with a look to the heavens.
A police car soon came to the door, Madonna
Robert Castagna teaches Poetry in Pictures at the Medford Senior Center. He received a photo fellowship and grant for his photographs of the U.S./Mexican border. He is a returning student at UMass Boston, now obsessed with surrealist poetry and the idea of long-distance relationships.
Poet/Photographer Jennifer Matthews’ poetry has been published in Nepal by Pen Himalaya and locally by the Wilderness Retreat Writers Organization, Midway Journal, The Somerville Times, Ibbetson Street Press and Boston Girl Guide. Jennifer was nominated for a poetry award by the Cambridge Arts Council for her book of poetry Fairy Tales and Misdemeanors. Her songs have been released nationally and internationally and her photography has been used as covers for a number of Ibbetson Street Press poetry books and has been exhibited at The Middle East Restaurant, 1369 Coffeehouses, Sound Bites Restaurant in Somerville and McLean Hospital.
This is a great poem, but you left off the last stanza. Who is the editor of this magazine?