Pictures fallen from the walls.
Shoes removed from closets and lined up on windowsills.
Nine tomatoes piled in the upper rack of the dishwasher.
A bloody left knee.
One morning
Washing up
I lean over the sink.
In the mirror
I see my face.
Somehow, in the night
I've shaved off my eyebrows.
Moonlight,
The Bishop finds me
Outside the cathedral
High on a balcony
Perched, knees drawn up
Sitting between two gargoyles
Shivering.
Below
The Bishop calls to me,
"Samuel. Samuel," he says,
"Would you like a blanket?"
At 49
I've returned to the practice of my youth.
I, Samuel Gentle,
By day, groundskeeper
For The Church of the Holy Comforter.
By night, somnambulist.
from An Almost Holy Picture
