In Which I Imagine Myself as My Great Aunt Helen

For Helen Gorman who entered St. Joseph’s Novitiate on October 2, 1932, age 18

Cathlin Noonan

Eat again and drink. Crack open

briny shells to taste the long

forgotten salt. Remove your coif,

a husk. Uncinch

the habit. It is a

clock of decades stuck inside.

Again unwind and douse the convent.

Flush. Be eighteen.

Within the thistle musk,

unlace your shoes. Lay down.

Risk the body, the blood, this time.

You are a tender bowl, held out,

hidden inside the coarse cloth,

with hands in beads.

Half-harvest hull, you’re bound

now, small kernel. Wake.

Now, small kernel, wake.

Half-harvest hull, you’re bound

with hands in beads.

Hidden inside the coarse cloth,

you are a tender bowl held out.

Risk the body, the blood. This time,

unlace your shoes. Lay down

within the thistle musk.

Flush and be eighteen

again. Unwind and douse the convent

clock, decades stuck inside

the habit. It is

a husk. Uncinch.

Forgotten salt, remove your coif.

Taste the briny shells.

Eat and drink again. Crack open.

~~~

Cathlin Noonan (she/her) is a poet based out of San Antonio, Texas. Her poetry has appeared or is forthcoming in Broad River Review, Crazyhorse, Pidgeonholes, Ruminate, and Small Orange Journal among others. She is assistant poetry editor for The Night Heron Barks and associate editor for Ran Off With the Star Bassoon. She can be found online at cathlinnoonan.com.