Jesuit Monorhyme

Sheer walls, a length of hyacinth-like stem,
a deer, shot, falls, impaled by an inevitable whim.

A window, tall, with potted plants and watered gin
approaches smallness, as a cold retreat begins.

All in all, a thought that, lightly dim,
coerced, is once more appalled by ancient memories of sin,

A feeding stall, a birth unburdened by the men
whose joyful call at mercy's freedom tolls aloud again.