Published on January 13th, 2017 | by TLV News0
Statues: A poem by Louis Bourgeois
The wooden sheep are in the yard.
The black oaks with their gnarling
limbs begin to appear.
Nuns gaze into the dark morning sky,
stars and moon fade away.
The wind is thick with pine and creosote,
And the dust lies heavy on the road to the school.
The nuns whisper prayers in the morning chill.