It was a wearisome drive
with crammed roads and
slow speeds

once here, it all disappeared
the high quavering
voices of the nuns

singing the gregorian
spread peace into the space
and I watched the candles

flickering - off to the side
like Pluscarden, the little
chapel was simple and

empty except for me.  I
question and think, there
are possibilities

in this place, so far south,
with its placid sky
and warm air.  At least
I am here.

Collected Works
Return to Collections all
next poem