PoetryIssue 08 | February 2010

Two poems by Susanna Rich

Praying to St. Stephen's Hand

        Can you feel his sure, tireless hand
amongst the leaves? 

  —From Sándor Csoóri’s “Meghallod-e-még?”

I grasp my grief and non-belonging
like a nosegay of paper poppies to
enter this Budapest basilica, pass the velvet-
covered cordon chain, show my ticket to
The Sanctuary of St. Stephen’s Hand.

They call it Szent Jobb—Holy Right,
Better—the left, beyond mouldering, with
Stephen’s other parts, scattered, like memories,
almost a thousand years throughout Hungary—
ancient custom: dissect and bury the king over his

larger body—the land. Into the slot I slip a 100
forint coin—stainless steel ringing a brass core—
for my ration of illumination: an ossified fist lying
in a glass casket among gold acacia leaves—single
Christmas bulb dull. I’m too distracted by the guardian

in Roman collar (and my anticipation of the end of light)
to feel an awe to flatter myself, if momentarily, that I am home
with the Father—that he waits for me, that he might hold
the boy my father was, drifting on hillsides
espaliered with grapevines; and the girl who would

marry him, picking peaches into her apron. I am hungry,
here. On my knees.  Cold. Always the import—west
of the Prime Meridian or east.  Tongue dancing to
strains of someone else’s music.  I am the thief in diaspora—
camera around her neck, world web on her back.

Needing what? The claw of my father’s hand lay
on the hospital sheet—gone was the ebony he hammered
of his thumbnails; gone, the fingers tying my laces.
What I have left: his reaching through my fingers, as if
through gloves, pressing them together, as if in prayer.

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About the author

Susanna Rich has published two poetry collections, Television Daddy and The Drive Home. She’s also a Fulbright Scholar, a creative non-fiction writer, and an Emmy Award nominee. As Professor of English and Distinguished Teacher at Kean University in New Jersey, she performs “Shakespeare’s *itches: The Women Talk Back,” a one-woman audience-interactive musical.

Read our current issue:


Two poems by Anne Babson
Vignette, Townhouse, 9 a.m. by Troy Cunio
Night Becomes Day Over the West by Megan Foley
Yukon River Aurora by D. B. Goman
Two Poems by David Havird
Cretan Love Letter by Emily Linstrom
Holland by Rick Mullin
Fear in Kenya by Kristina Pfleegor
The Lounge Lizard by Ed Shacklee
Two Poems by Sarah J. Sloat
Night Flight by Vicki Stannard
Koinonia Farms by Alina Stefanescu
Thessaloniki, Four a.m. by Anastasia Vassos
Imaginary Oceans by Jason Warren
Two Poems by F. J. Williams

Postcard prose

It’s Salty by Kelly Hill

Travel notes

Anchorage in the Great Land by Karen Benning
The Value of Small Money by Megan Hallinan
Screensaver by Sandra Larson
Thirty Cents by Tommy McAree
Gokarna by Kate McCahill
Going Places by Rachel Miller-Howard
Susanville CA: Notes From The Road by Susan Volchok