Magdalene in the Shade of Veronica’s Love

She kneels, covering his feet with her long hair,

this young and ruined woman weeping her regrets.

He takes her hand and she rises, forgiven;

the repentant beauty of her face fills his eyes.

Within the void that is the watching crowd

my hands ache, curving like claws

reach but touch nothing

but the reluctant sorrowing mystery.

So long ago, before time mortified my soul,

young I begged strangers for an imprint

that their hands their lips might mark my existence

that is now manifest in the inconsequentiality

of my cronehood, the lines of my face

the whiteness of my hair

my mottled hands misshapen fingers.

Now in imposed silence

hard earned hard learned

the question is mute, or moot.

Where is the absolution

for the inconsequential spirit?

And is the question of any consequence?

Shame and salvation.

I would gather her pain

to my betrayed and tender waste.

I would weep if I could

but can only sway

above her disarming, guileless grief.