30 Psaltery & Lyre: Elizabeth Pinborough, “Recantation”



My air is whittled to a reed.
Breath chases breath, as
forested trails unfold—
This conifer paradise needles
my soul as it runs.

A wickedness presses
in my breast. I cannot
pluck it out. It is a rolled up
Torah scroll I cannot read.
I cannot outrun its speaking.

Merciful merchandise, the moths
and flaming sunsets, lavished
on me, God’s child, without money
and without price. Still,
I am rapt and raging—

The rabbit slips her trap.
The rabbit slips her trap,
trailing beaded strings of
jade, beautiful refuse gathered
from distant Chinese tombs.

You are far and fathomless—
I cannot sing far enough,
pray wide enough, hope high
enough to reach you.
You are within.



Elizabeth Pinborough is a freelance writer and editor. Her work has appeared in Dialogue, Fire in the Pasture: Twenty-first Century Mormon Poets, and Wilderness Interface Zone.


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