Sacred Heart

By Jennie Malboeuf

Sometimes the Bible repeats

Itself. Abraham like God and

Isaac like Jesus. Abraham knife

in hand, sobbing but ready.

Sometimes we add to it. Fish

spreading like wildfire in the sea,

on loaves of bread. Teresa

with the little baby heads floating

around her in my book of saints.

Cecilia at the piano, even the same

in death. Gorgeous with blush

just run from her cheeks. Mary’s heart

b u r s t s  into gold

on my faded green statue. What

to do with these images as little

children. Marvel at their mystery,

the magic: necessity is the mother

of invention, they say.

—

About Jennie Malboeuf

Jennie Malboeuf is a native of Kentucky. Her work has been published in the Southeast Review, Mid-American Review, Mississippi Review, and Columbia Poetry Review, has been recognized by the Iowa Review, Gulf Coast, and Arts & Letters, and recently won a Dorothy Sargent Rosenberg Award. She lives in North Carolina and teaches writing at Guilford College.