estelle

She petitioned deliverance

begged God under the table

dared him to take she and the baby

or leave them and her life would be

His. The two on their knees

crouched beneath the wood slab

the kitchen floor cold, the planes--

low outside the window--hummed

and passed.

And so she left off her wayward life

took up the ways of the spirit

took her six children and heathen husband

(smoking out back). They packed up

to follow pillars and clouds.

The narrow road.

She was a holiness preacher,

and her oldest daughter always made dinner

so she could rest after the long days spent

standing on corners to offer up warnings.

One air raid, one knee-jerk into prayer,

one terrible wager on the freezing kitchen floor.

Then there are no more questions?

Then God speaks each morning,

gives blanket permission?

Her certainty- in her voice when she proclaimed

my eternal salvation in dire straits.

Me, at age 9, petrified

gripping the iron railing of her hospital bed.

Her certainty- she carried it even into death

powdered and shaking and slurring her 'a's

the way all French woman do.