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.