The Special Scarf
Blue and black silk
running down
in a straight line
generous horizontal wide
space, enough to hold
each side with fingertips
Some gold fleur-de-lis
mixed into the black blue silk
medley
I went to the exhibit that year
more than ten years ago now
wearing that scarf
Taking the edge
the small corner
I lightly tapped and touched
the bit of silk
To the gold-encased rounded reliquary
housing one then another then another
tiny bits of cloth,
a strand of hair perhaps,
all enclosed
in a worship space
very small circling halo sparkling
on the long tables with the pure white cloth
as a runner below the pieces
of the exhibit.
We all walked in a single file line
quietly
hopefully
silently
After touching the relics
I still wore the scarf,
the blue and black and gold
hues hanging down
each side of my black sweater
I haven’t looked at it
in a while
it is in a drawer
walnut wood drawer
Marveling silently to itself
the secrets of the saintly ones
within its gentle folds.
Joan Lerman is a writer and musician living in Southern California. Her poetry has appeared or is forthcoming in Emmanuel Magazine, Academy of the Heart and Mind, 300 Days of Sun, Ionosphere, Pure Slush, Orange Juice Poetry Journal, and New Croton Review.
Amethyst Review 