There is a crescent moon beneath my heart
and a thorn placed by Saint Genevieve
wrapped in tissue paper and delivered
by her hand from a golden sleeve.
The orchards stand a foot in flood
and the sun denies the vines
as crowns deny Saint Genevieve
to wander dumbstruck blind.
The crescent moon beneath my heart
reflects in switchgrass reeds
and rolls like fog across the stars
that sent Saint Genevieve.
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unprompted but shared with Dverse OLN hosted by Linda Lyberg
Saint Genevieve is the patron saint of Paris and her feast day was this past week, January 3rd.
