Atheist Lighting A Candle In Albi Cathedral

By Frances Leviston

It seems to matter
I use a Zippo,
not the taper’s monkish flame.

It seems to matter I choose the white
over red before asking the difference,

that I love the fresco’s talented horse
though couldn’t name his rider –

but what’s not authentic at the Virgin’s feet?
She knows I am not a bad person, just troubled.
She knows the wick is burning.

This Poem Features In: