The unarmored
shoes she dons
leave space in the toe
for a soul. A phantom
hanging on her thigh
slips past
the mind’s
control.
Circles she’s in
wheel slowly.
She cracks jokes that go over
like lead.
The flag once borne
on a shoulder
now fatigues a frame
by her bed.
Eyes that once
were beside
watch her recede
into light; pills
the VA prescribed
count down
like rounds
in a fight.
Lessons from the Eternal City
Regular First Things readers will know that one of my preoccupations is the dehumanization that grips our…
Three Great Lenten Themes
The entire purpose of Lent, now past the halfway mark, is to prepare us for the glory…
The Women the Vatican Forgot
Last week, the Vatican Dicastery for the Doctrine of the Faith released a synodal study group’s final…