Saturday morning
through the market
new trousers 2 euros.
Light steps on ancient flagstones which
have echoed for a thousand years.
Two candles each side of the
The Sacred Host.
Silence is broken by
the confessor's voice
which crosses the aisles
the penitent cannot be heard
Muffled voices behind me, the seagulls
screech eagerly to each other
they are joyful in the cold Spring sunlight.
the chime, like a death toll
drowns out all other prayers
Yesterday I passed by the Church
cathedral sized
and heard the organ groan
but today there is no music but sweet murmurs
in my heart which can be heard if
I listen.
Copyright 2025 L. Ivison
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