The moon is a smudge of light
On the forehead of darkness
Ash Wednesday penitent
In negative relief

I reach for you
Child, arms outstretched
Love scooped up

But cannot touch the mark my sin has left
On you, matchless Love
God with his arms thrown wide
For this insignificant girl
Smaller than the lesser
Light to govern the night

Who governs the night of this cage
I rattle
And percuss these wrought
Iron bars strung together
Cupped hands, carved-out bones
Ribs around a single
Beating heart