THE TRANSFER FROM S.V.O.

On a sunny morning
in July,
without a reason why,
the playground nun,
tapping me on the shoulder, said:

"Virgil,
you must gather your things
for a trip
tomorrow in the morning."

Whisked away,
when morning came,
I had no chance
to say good bye
to the playmates
of my childhood days.

Clutching my rosary
and
my prayer book,
I assiduously prayed.

Two Sisters of St. Francis,
dressed in black,
in silence sat,
as the car interminably
sped along its way.

The numbing stillness
broke at last,
as the car
passed through the gates
of a state-run home,
known as O.S. & S.O.


(September 24, 2001)
(O.S. & S.O. = Ohio Soldiers' And Sailors' Orphans' Home)