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Hail Mary Full of Grace 
by Kenneth P. Gurney

I want to learn the nursery rhymes
you spoke to your child,
the type of rattle that shakes change
how the baby-bubbles floated upon his lips.

My favorite picture of you
is at the sink, washing dishes,
your beatific face gazing out the window
at your son playing in the yard.

I wonder if you promptly
placed the meals on the table
when Joseph got home
from a long day’s work.

How many times did you weep
when Joesph arrived late, worried
that brigands waylaid him
or the Romans hauled him away?

What did Gabriel really look like?
Did his wings shimmer
and was there a dusty wind
generated by the flapping?

Ellie is pregnant now.  Her face
has that glow that the artists
give your portraits.

I wonder if Ellie carries
a troublesome cure for the world
in the crucible of her womb?

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