Black Spain

By Dayna Patterson

Madonna, from a distance your blackness
beckons, but it is only an illusory
layer of grime, the same that outlines
a once white border of lace on your gown.

Santiago de Matamoros gleams
on his horse, his carefully combed curls
dark on his skin. The prostrate Moor,
dark eyes in a dark face, looks up
at the hoof that will cleave his head.

They spread their squares of cloth
early in the morning
and spread each painted fan
on the squares of cloth.
They squat beside their wares
and wait for the tourists to come.
Their black fingers drip
like candles lit for prayer

About Dayna Patterson

Dayna Patterson is the editor of Psaltery & Lyre. She received the Dialogue Award for Poetic Excellence for her poem “Eloher,” which won first place in the “A Mother Here” Art & Poetry Contest. Her chapbooks, Loose Threads and Mothering, are available from Flutter Press. She lives in Bellingham, Washington with her husband, Charles, and their two daughters.

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