The Renunciate

The Renunciate

Her idea of a good time was us
alone in a small room with a desk
and a common book of prayer.

Her idea of a good breakfast
was oatmeal and sliced peaches,
a sprinkle of sesame seeds.

Mornings were spent in silence
reading, writing in her diary
on the progress of her soul.

lunch was nuts, a sliver of cheese,
a raspberry or two for a treat —
if I behaved myself, she laughed.

To grow new eyes was her life path;
her window view was a parking garage
a gas station, a used car lot.

Once when she thought she saw it anew,
she pulled up her dress and sat on my lap
and I saw that view afresh too.


©James L. Ralston


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