morning-sickness

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morning-sickness

            December 25, 2019

A virgin vomits in the dust
outside her tent in Nazareth.
The air is still, morning mist
dew-cold along her naked forearms.
Glance up with her—the sky is big
and you are not, and somehow grace
is thicker than the bread-crumbs slick
with spit now pooling at her feet.
Listen closely— you’ll hear it between
verse 1 and 2 of Silent Night,
when the congregation flips the bulletin
and fills the sanctuary with the sound
of raindrops
                     on the dome of heaven.


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