Monday, November 27, 2017

Franklin Street ~

Franklin Street was
our cool cathedral to play in
vaulted high in green
with shards of light
breaking through leafy windows
to fall on mosaics
of brownish-yellow bricks
curbed by shaded aisles
flanked with patches of green
bordered by side-altar steps
where flowers threw off scents
like plumes of incense
and porches gave access
to narrow transepts
at whose distant end
a lone stained glass window
glowed reddish orange
for vespers and none.

We played different there
under that arching canopy
celebrating our rituals
with quiet fervor in restrained games
in a sanctuary more suited for prayer
between eight mighty pillars
flanking the nave, evenly spaced
bearing the weight of the arches—
or were they oaks?

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