Poetry

Dusk Elegy with Myrtle

By Joshua Gregory

I pray down in the green.
I lean down

next to my grandmother,
gone.

*

Myrtle petal’s purple stain/
on the driveway, running /
summer rain . . .

*

When I was a child my first word was bat.

*

Bright wind. Sinew-rush. Shoulder
blade. Black

scythe rustling
the dark green
grass.

Her crinkled, silent wrists
tic.

*

(You washed my skin with soap, you kissed my blood,
you had my mother.)

*

Above us the bats carry her clothes away
in their claws.

She hangs from the branches
a terracotta bird.

Joshua Gregory, MDiv ’19, recently served as the interim associate minister at Old Cambridge Baptist Church in Cambridge and currently works as a hospital chaplain at Beverly Hospital in Beverly, MA. His writing has appeared, or is forthcoming, in the Colorado Review, Denver Quarterly, Painted Bride Quarterly, Pilgrimage, and elsewhere.

Please follow our Commentary Guidelines when engaging in discussion on this site.