Aquarius
A black cross in my memory,
Upon a tangled silver chain,
Against his skin of ivory,
Glows fire-branded to my brain.
I wonder what it means to him.
A superstition, luck-charm, or
A beacon when his faith is dim,
To lead him through the narrow door?
An icon wrought of ebony:
I pictured it when last I prayed,
Confronted with a sanctity
Above my reach, above my grade.
And on the night I saw him last,
Above his heart it caught the light.
I bowed then, with my eyes downcast,
Beneath his gaze of lazurite.
Patricia Rogers Crozier has been published in The Washington Post. She holds a B.S. in Physics from Mississippi College. She resides in Gulf Breeze, Florida and works at Publix. She is the winner of the 2024 SCP International Poetry Competition.
