Cold Bricks in the Monastery Church

The wind howls,
whipping her limbs
coldly around
the building’s bricks.
I feel her
pull them
over the walls like
tongues of ice
retreating in long
slow licks.
My neck chills
and shivers when
she chants
her wail.
I know
She is here.
I cannot see Her,
but O how I
know She is here