The Nuns of Childhood: Two Views
O where are they now, your harridan nuns
who thumped on young heads with a metal thimble
and punished with rulers your upturned palms:
three smacks for failing in long division,
one more to instill the meaning of humble
As the twig is bent, said your harridan nuns.
Once, a visiting bishop, serene
at the close of a Mass through which he had shambled,
smiled upon you with upturned palms.
"Because this is my feast day," he ended, "you may all have a free afternoon." In the scramble of whistles and cheers one harridan nun, fiercest of all the parochial coven, Sister Pascala, without preamble raged, "I protest!" and rapping on palms at random, had bodily to be restrained. O God's perfect servant is kneeling on brambles wherever they sent her, your harridan nun, enthroned as a symbol with upturned palms. O where are they now, my darling nuns whose heads were shaved under snowy wimples, who rustled drily inside their gowns, disciples of Oxydol, starch and bluing, their backyard clothesline a pious example? | |
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