Mary

It is simple for her to steal
off into the night
and leave her sleeping family
to their snores on the straw-tossed floor.

She slips free of the links
that fasten her to life—
her mother, father, and Joseph,
all dwindle in her mind
like a haze of memory,
she can hardly see
them in the distance behind her.

There is only Nazareth,
the white washed dwellings
that crown the hilltop
tapering down the sides;
only the crickets
bawling their buzz to the moonlight
and the sound of two lovers—
concealed by winds whistle and lost
among olive branches.

His is the face of love,
shadowed in darkness,
eclipsing the bulbil-
moon as she looks up
to the gleam of his nimbus.

For three months his chiseled body
shrouds her own, and then her
swelling belly
forces her to stay home.

When Joseph rubs a warm hand over her
lumped mound, conjured stones strike her skin
and she recalls that angel.

Shawn Nacona Stroud

Judges’ Comments:

In revisiting the well-known and oft recounted, the poet has set himself a tough task, yet is able to execute it sublimely. The strategy adopted by the poet revitalizes the context and keeps it simple. The brevity with which essential Biblical aspects are rendered and the way it ends in splendid ambiguity makes this poem stand out amongst similar poems. But, off-course, it has the Titanic effect; the reader knows the context. There is little to surprise the reader with and yet that it does manage this speaks a lot for the poem. The poet has taken a great risk in writing this and has made it work. (SN)

I agree with Sachi completely, had this more of a unique topic, this probably would have made us argue about its #2 slot. The last strophe is heartbreakingly gorgeous and we are delighted to be freshly engaged given the hackneyed nature of these myths. Lovely work. (LB)