Page 5 - Contrast1987v29
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Refuge From the Winter Solstice
How delicate a sanctuary
From caustic breezes and frozen footsteps:
Four mute stained windows
Enveloping wooden arcs to a highness.
Comfort, leaning to the back of an aged pew.
I pause, stretching to escape
The profane cold of daily December.
Listening to the church peals
That would ripely echo,
I turn to the quiet aisle
Invisible air-seal unbroken.
Without this placid shell, the walk
Remains iced-damp,
Merely a palette of burned wet oak debris
And beyond the shadows, a limitless waning horizon.
Let the winter's misery be banished, sanctuary,
Bring my fears to a sated rest.
May I, the beholder, evoke the graces of spring.
I pray for sun-streaked warmth
Inside a cathedral of hope.
Carol Gauntlett '89
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