Back in the days of black and white TV
Sister Mary Lucia wore black and white
as sported by The Hatters, that is Luton Town, the football club,
unless you’re a supporter of the other team called Hatters
from much further north in England:
Stockport County.
Sister Mary Lucia got us to pray, when our school day
was almost over, so that we could thank the ones
who looked over our shoulders, the upholders of the truth and trusting,
who helped us get our bearings
in a world
of hats, ball-bearings, aeroplanes
and many Vauxhall Motors.
Our angels.
Sister Mary Lucia taught us the song that we would sing
to give us a belonging sense,
to make us feel more strong than tense,
reminding us from whence we came,
reminding us that when we came into this world,
we were hurled here with our angels.
She wore a dove of silver,
and gave us pieces of her mind.
And she told us of the love of those
who stood there in the wings, behind us.
Our Angels.
Sister Mary Lucia made calendars from cardboard, for
selling at the Christmas school bazaar.
My Dad gave me the cardboard, which he got from work, to give her.
Sister Mary Lucia, I told her that I loved her
even though she sent me down to join the Baby’s Class
for acting like a baby, maybe that would make me think again,
a little bit of pain and doing my addition with a baby’s pencil for a while
the smile wiped off my fallen features
but not wiped from the features of my angels.
All the time spent at Saint Josephs, I could really sense the sacred,
seven largely happy years, with heaven just a short distance away
but at eleven, I had seen the last of Sister Mary Lucia
and it seemed that the angelic had gone on holiday. And I missed her.
The sacred and myself would see a lot of separation,
although, sometimes on a railway station
I would sense some peace
and on my travels on occasion, the unravelling persuasion
and the passion of a people
saw my ration of the sacredness increase:
in New Zealand and in Greece and also, just outside of
Grimsby. (At Healing Academy, funnily enough.)
And on the terraces at football.
Unification and release.
Sister said we all had angels.
Our baby sisters, guardians and grans.
Even the Watford fans.
She had a dove made out of silver,
as did all the other Sisters in their veils.
And, I told her that I loved her,
Sister Mary Lucia, from Wales.
She took the cardboard given by my father,
my father, who was native of Paree.
And she acquainted us with the saints and with our angels
Sister Mary Lucia,
Merci.