I have this plush cat
I got when I was one,
Still sitting on my bed,
Guard duty never done.
A shelf of painted figurines
Of Voronetz and Easter eggs,
Beside a hanging crucifix;
I sleep beneath Christ’s legs.
In light, before sleep tempts me
At these memories I stare,
I’ll be hiding from monsters
Should their spots ever go bare.
But I’ll listen to my Grandma,
And ritualise my time,
Touch our photo at the monastery,
Read the Bible on my shrine.
I close my eyes,
Cross myself four times —
Right shoulder, then left —
And I’ll dream of the sublime.
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