In My Long Night
I have toiled like a spider at his web
In the dome of a church
Where only the upraised eyes of martyrs
In their torments could see me.
Where one cold spring day,
With rumors of war in the air,
My young parents brought me
To be baptized by the priest.
Where years after, my grandmother
Was to lie in an open coffin
Looking pleased to be done with
Having to bury other people.
Where I once saw a crow walk in,
Lured by the gold on the altar
And the light the candles cast,
While I dangled up there by a thread.