A Canterbury Tale

I whirlwinded the rooms
today, in prep for
a visitor.  We spoke of

sacred places and their
structure, the people
who change things once we're gone.

I sat at Christ's table
quietly, briefly
then I fell away to be

who I am.  Every time
in church a pilgrimage
by bus, on foot, in

car.  No church is ever
near enough
to make it easy.  The

journey always demands
a price to pay
a bridge too far.

One Year Round The Sun
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