by Sharon Black
She looks out wearing light
across the south end of the island. The chapel
is scaffolded, interlocking poles
rising thirty feet high beyond the wall.
The opening on which she sits –
legs spread, labia
pulled wide –
is an arch of basalt and red granite,
weathered and freckled with light. A steel pole
has been thrust through.
Fencing on the other side divides the view
into twelve square frames: blue sky, two sheep
on a sill above the bay, a skein of geese
arrowing north beyond the abbey’s
heavy coat of grey.