I was tending a deathbed at noon.

Doubt appeared beside me, an efficient nurse.

She touched everything in the room with her cloth:

the window, my eyelids, my mouth . . .

Like a mortal, this nurse

had a shadow Faith

who followed her, followed each

stroke of her cloth to completion.

How can I be sure of this?

I can’t be. I’m not here

to give you certainty, I’m here

to ask you, to believe.

∞

From the Fall 2013 issue of Inquiring Mind (Vol. 30, No. 1)

© 2013 Jennifer Tseng