I ask Mother Teresa if I can
Call her Mother T,
If she is related to Mr. T,
Them both known for their tenacity,
wearing bling,
twinkling their eyes, seeking spotlights
etcetera.
Small as she is, I have to
Place her carefully in shallow riffles,
Her dark habit absorbing water
Like a sponge.
Naturally she wants to work the
Deep black holes
She call Calcutta-ish,
Wants to wade deep in the murk
Solve problems.
We catch no fish this day,
But coat the river with compassion.
I notice driving home her toes
Are stubbed black and blue.
She never whimpers
much less complains,
This the mark of a saint.