Mary

Down the block
In front of the church
Mary stands in a bed of flowers
Not so tall, but certainly stoic
Our Lady of El Barrio.

There is a woman who comes
often, to stand in front of her.
So casually leaning
So adoringly gazing
upward at her face.

What does she ask for?
What does she wish?
Has her faith been tested, revived, renewed?
What blessing will be bestowed?
What peace given?

That a bosom so hard, so unyielding, so exposed
Should provide such comfort
Puts us all to shame.

Here is a revision I did for Poetry Class, playing around with the line breaks:

Madre

Down the block, in front of the church
Mary stands in a bed of flowers.
Not so tall, but certainly stoic.
Our Lady of El Barrio.

There is a woman who comes often
to stand in front of her, hands clasped.
So casually leaning, so adoringly gazing,
upward at her face.

What does she ask for, what does she
wish? Has her faith been tested, revived,
renewed? What blessing will be
bestowed? What peace given?

That a bosom so hard, so unyielding, so exposed
should provide such comfort
is a wonderous thing
indeed.