Sleep was paltry
Hunger bit hard.
I stood and all
My vision starred
With weariness and galaxies –
Lent had worn
And emptied me.
But in the rushing
Sweep of sky
A sun-shot gull
And raven fly:
Twin stars wheeling
A blazing wind.
I taste of joy
And I am filled.
Maria Grace De Lallo is fascinated by words, and has been turning them into poems for as long as she can remember. She lives in a little cabin, which she calls The Hobbit Hole, plays bagpipes, keeps swords in her umbrella stand, and enjoys peated whisky. Her poems have appeared in Catholic Poetry Room, The Road Not Taken and Reliquiae.