Season of sweet Latin, the scholar-saints
at their scribing – nothing much
disturbs life here –
the style is lotus-monastic :
rose light settled on the chestnut,
a glass of the cool Touraine…
In close theological argument
with my six-year-old, a Manichean,
I put the case for Purgatory
before walking out to the flowery field.
He trails behind me,
a small Plantagenet, armed to the teeth.
unpublished poem, © Stephen Romer 2014, used by permission of the author