Philip Quirke
BEFORE CLOSURE [2015]
Old nuns still take the soft cloth to doorknobs
and banisters in the crumbling convent.
They pause to look at empty stairwells;
a storm shutter flaps gently in the draught.
The dormitory bell fixed to a crossbeam
is mute, where once it called to prayer.
A gentle footfall on the stony cloister
magnifies the silence. The chapel is cold.
The Virgin’s statue guards the few remaining
from her high alcove on the west wall.
Rains run down the marbled cheeks like tears.
Sunset draws a rose-tint wistful smile.
DEPARTING IN HOPE [2018]
And so it came to pass:
the time to leave, the time to close.
Like a death. And after.
Vow to vigil keep fulfilled.
You leave a history of praising God,
of interceding for the people
who brought you their sorrows and wounds.
Press on, faithful sisters.
As you pull that door behind you,
trust that another opens.
For Sisters Peter, Gabriel, Dominic, Finbar and Rosella. [January 1, 2025]
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