Fragment from Assisi
Because I heard the cockerel’s golden cry Ring from the bottom of the silver olive glade, Because he called the chapter of the noonday sun, I shed the shackles my own hands had made. Because the towers up and down the hill Fired like beacons answering when they tolled the time, Driving the white wrack of the winter orchard smoke, I lost my fear between that chill and chime.
—Meredith Wise
Meredith Wise, 21, is a student at Christendom College.




