Hunting Nun

a religious lady has mist
across her face

air near her is slippery
with a scent of sweet iron

her habit's crisp
smooth white cloth
is spattered
like silver pocked with dark

she sits in a bone chair

her rosary of ova
hot pearls she fiddles with
flicks & grips & counts

there is a constant
drip drip drip onto
bare oak boards
beneath her chair

and red/black threads trickle

down the chair's bone legs
into a growing pool
of bible-depth