More on: Allison Funk

-even the blossoms of heal-all.
Everyone has something to spirit away—
——-the mother at the well’s stone altar,

her daughters praying in the shade.
——-The forlorn, Paddy called them. All of us
who find our way through the thorny gorse.

Beyond, / the Atlantic gapes. Anonymous. / I don’t know how I’ll let you go.

My God my God 

      why are you so far from     my groaning 

His voice nearly gone _________________(add enough water and pigment thins) she’s listening to the plainsong of doves in the garden, ______________________their__ you__ you __you calling her slowly back to herself until she’s jarred by laughter coming from ______________________________who is it below her window facing the avenue du Général Baron Robert? Footsteps. Three knocks at the…