The poem is one that has been around a long while.  In the mid-to-late 90s, I wrote a lot, and a lot of what I wrote was poetry.  Today I pair an old poem with a new collage for Art Every Day Month.  Enjoy!

Convert
by Tammy Vitale

Once her prayers beat the sky

with the fear of a caged bird

cold beads slipping through fingers

like memories.  She has forgotten

why the woman in blue

is forever stepping on the snake.

Instead she thinks of the green serpents

seen unexpectedly the year she thought

of drowning, how water enfolds and covers

but the serpents sang to her

of the secrets of dry grass

the diligence of trees

and the warmth of small feathered things

with racing hearts

so she learned to love the land.

Now

she places sweet milk

in the corners of her yellow kitchen

just in case

the serpents come ashore

makes nests of shredded paper

for broken birds with wounded wings

and scitters glass beads

one by one

across the worn and shiny floor

while she holds her prayers

in the palm of her hand