Death of our Sister

Death of our Sister

Tattered break-time wrappers twirled by an errant wind.
Their tireless discordant dance performs; oblivious.
She is gone.
Innocence of the last rites slowly breeds fear, tainted by a novice
sense of death, found hanging in the air.
Whispered in silenced classrooms,
Restrained from view inside an adult tear.
She is gone.
Courage prevails; homage paid,
Pieces of countless childhoods lost between porch and pew.
And a subdued yet palpable papal presence concedes to a sweet solo
psalm,
As our remaining brothers and sisters in habit say Amen.