Edgartown, Massachusetts
The black umbrellas folded up
for the night stand like wimpled nuns
looking out over the harbor.
Perhaps they pray for mariners
or naval cadets risking their necks
in the briny mist, or perhaps,
they’re teachers together planning
another lesson. Do they practice
catechism and recite the rosary
as they catch the breeze
off the darkening sky? I imagine
I hear their lips move in unison.
Mother Mary, pray for me.
When I return in the morning
no nuns remain, only canvas shades
spread wide across croissants,
biscuits, eggs and bacon.
Wilda Morris is past president of the Illinois State Poetry Society and of Poets & Patrons of Chicago, and current workshop chair of the latter. She is widely published in print and on the internet, and she has won awards for free verse, formal verse, and haiku. Her blog at wildamorris.blogspot.com provides a monthly contest for other poets.