An Eight Year Old’s May Altar

Inside May’s warm beauty
I think of God and of the Virgin Mary.
I’ve always loved Mary.
The time is now —
I’ll make a May altar.
And I’ll look for my rosary beads.

For my Holy Mary
I’ll grab the plastic one from the car
and set up the altar
on my chest of drawers.
It’ll be a nice place to pray.
But I can’t find my rosary beads.

I’ll get some bluebells and primroses.
Broken lilac is easy to come by
maybe some daisies as well.
It will be fine for a week or so —
though not much white or blue for Mary.
And I’ve lost my rosary beads

A jam jar with some water.
For the faded blue Mary to stand on
the crocheted cloth
from my parents dresser —
I hope they don’t notice.
Now I have to buy rosary beads

‘Hail Mary’ that’s my favourite
so I’ll say that again and again
praying together with my angel —
my Guardian Angel.
So, I’ll feel safe and good.
And I’ve got new rosary beads

And so I pray each night
before I go to bed.
I’m a good boy but not a good son,
none of us are.
The family isn’t right — it is falling
I’m quiet — there is no talk.
I can’t finish my rosary.

My brother’s angel didn’t protect him
but let him die before my eyes.
Without prayers the altar flowers are fading.
So, I will now my wash my face
in the May dew like the heathens.
God can have my rosary.

John Coburn is an Anglo-Irish poet living in London.  He has been published in A New Ulster,  Black Nore Review, Sunday Independent and the Poet’s Yearbook Autumn Anthology.  He has also read on Irish radio.