Mary Watches

Along the lane and around the corner to the old church,

Through gorse flowers and honeysuckle plume,

I find her.

She stands solitary, still, forever watching.

None kneel to her, and February leaves adorn her breast.

She is calm. She is peace.

I wonder, do they see her, in their Sunday best?

Does she see them?

Does she seek their praise, through unmoving eyes,

Or does she bless each as they pass?

Mary Watches - A Vignette of 'an Mhaighdean Muire'. County Tyrone, Ireland (2022)

Thank you for reading! Be sure to check out my profile for more of my poems and articles.