St Peter’s Chapel
well fancy that
was a chapel
then from nowhere’s garden he appeared
there was stained glass there
the old man offered pointing out probably
heaven’s gate they called it
his confidence confided
and that was the door there
we can see it we said
finding his confidence
followed by our question
and the well
up here hidden his confidence strode
dragging our light-footed uncertainty
there it is
and believe me the water is pure
if you avoid scooping up the silt
our spring babbled
how quiet it all is
the congregation seems to be the trees
the paths our common prayer
look how
when we arrived
the light slanted in just so
the light he mused
yes the light he mused
stained glass i said
not one held-breath disagreed
what a nice man
amen
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