THE BELLS OF SAINT MARY'S
The nun is being banished by her priest
For her own good; he will not tell her why:
She must not know (And now I start to cry,
Released in the dark). She has to leave, at least
For now, in silence, knowing not their guilt
Who ache for her to stay, but must not say
(I'm crying bitterly now, ambushed, at bay,
Smothering in the story, like a quilt).
Bing Crosby, Ingrid Bergman's ailing nun,
“Bells of Saint Mary's”: tawdry arts that sway
Shadows behind the flick'ring shadow play:
Weeping in darkness through that strange re-run
Silence-charged futile tears against the tide
That took the one who had, and had not, died.
THE BELLS OF SAINT MARY'S
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