Prayer to St. Drogo of Sebourg

Patron of Unattractive People and of Those Whom Others Find Repulsive


By James Scannell McCormick - Rochester, Minnesota - 2 September 2014




You: no sooner come to a life folden

And fine as a psalter's roundel (lovers, say,

In April -- blue cloaked, posed and poised on a lawn

Of pinks) -- unmothered. She died in birthing you.


In the west, the Channel heaved, mussel-indigo:

What is having to loss? Forgone of your

Belongings, you, sinful pilgrim, walked to

Rome in penitence. Again. Again. We are


Sinners, all. And yet who gave any thanks

Or help -- a cup of warmth, a free inglenook-

Seat? When sickness blistered your face to flanks

Of skinned hares, and no one would bear to look


At you, you sealed yourself in a hermit's cell --

So smallest comfort serves to preserve our souls.