At the Cloisters – a poem by Gretchen R. Fletcher

At the Cloisters

In a place of ancient peace I wait for my friend,
rub my hands over columns carved by other hands 

that long ago found peace under ancient European soil.
A benediction of fountained water flows over stones as rain 

drips on cosmos, fennel, and medieval healing herbs.
At the Trie Cloister Café my friend sheds tears

on uneaten focaccia, breaks the present peace, 
drowns the soundtrack of Gregorian chant 

with her litany of fears about the future.
Look! -  I say.  Across the way

a young priest lures sparrows with bread 
in an outstretched palm 

steadied on the stone wall, 
restoring peace to the ancient setting.

Gretchen R. Fletcher won the Poetry Society of America’s Bright Lights/Big Verse competition and was projected on the Jumbotron while reading her winning poem in Times Square. One of her poems was choreographed and performed by dance companies in Palm Beach and San Francisco, and others appear in datebooks published in Chicago by Woman Made Gallery. Her poetry has been published in journals including The Chattahoochee Review, Inkwell, Pudding Magazine, Upstreet, Canada’s lichen, and online at Poetry Southeast, SeaStories, and prairiehome.publicradio. Her chapbooks, That Severed Cord and The Scent of Oranges, were published by Finishing Line Press.