ALTARPIECE OF THE MISERICORDIA

One man’s face is completely

without features; another

wears a black hood over his

face, his body hunched away.

Eight others pray under the

wings of the solemn, holy

mother of god, yet it’s an

atmospheric light that pulls

you deep inside the misery;

it’s what the painter didn’t paint

that lets you see what kind of

light that suffering can be,

the white hot burning up of

everything you thought you could

believe, holy father, son, and ghost.