Cathedral Image

 

from this week in August, 1996  (I was 51)

 

         Cathedral Image

From under frond covered palapa

cloud covered afternoon in Cuernavaca

shades the view of cathedral hill

and the gardens of Posada Xochiquetzal 

 

Cricket clicks on incoming mist

in the midst of midsummer rifts

rippling soft from fumbling fountain

where stone frogs spit bubbling foam

 

The trill of droplets off the curving dome

begins to drill and file upon roof tile

then streams to wash bloody pyramids and licks

the wounds of the ancient conquering crucifix

 

Human Comedy continued

 

from this week in April, 1996  (I was 51)

 

         Human Comedy continued

Is no cookies raisins in, said the grocer looking older

than he was.  Good I said, I hate raisins

and he smiled at me.  In fact I continued

I don’t particularly like cookies.  I will

eat one occasionally to enhance the strength of coffee.

This last allowed him to resume his more familiar

demeanor with lips closed in a slight pout indicating

he had nothing more to say.  He wiped his hands

on his blood stained apron as if to accept a guilt

that did not exist.  I bought dark rye bread

opened it as I paid for it and ate a slice dry

He handed me my change without a thank you

and I left without saying goodbye.  I love

transactions like that.  Good bread too.

Communion.

Cathedral Image

from this week in August, 1996  (I was 51)

 

         Cathedral Image

From under frond covered palapa

cloud covered afternoon in Cuernavaca

shades the view of cathedral hill

and the gardens of Posada Xochiquetzal 

 

Cricket clicks on incoming mist

in the midst of midsummer rifts

rippling soft from fumbling fountain

where stone frogs spit bubbling foam

 

The trill of droplets off the curving dome

begins to drill and file upon roof tile

then streams to wash bloody pyramids and licks

the wounds of the ancient conquering crucifix

Cathedral Image

from this week in August, 1996  (I was 51)

            Cathedral Image

From under frond covered palapa

cloud covered afternoon in Cuernavaca

shades the view of cathedral hill

and the gardens of Posada Xochiquetzal 

Cricket clicks on incoming mist

in the midst of midsummer rifts

rippling soft from fumbling fountain

where stone frogs spit bubbling foam

The trill of droplets off the curving dome

begins to drill and file upon roof tile

then streams to wash bloody pyramids and licks

the wounds of the ancient conquering crucifix

Human Comedy continued

from this week in April, 1996  (I was 51)

         Human Comedy continued

Is no cookies raisins in, said the grocer looking older

than he was.  Good I said, I hate raisins

and he smiled at me.  In fact I continued

I don’t particularly like cookies.  I will

eat one occasionally to enhance the strength of coffee.

This last allowed him to resume his more familiar

demeanor with lips closed in a slight pout indicating

he had nothing more to say.  He wiped his hands

on his blood stained apron as if to accept a guilt

that did not exist.  I bought dark rye bread

opened it as I paid for it and ate a slice dry

He handed me my change without a thank you

and I left without saying goodbye.  I love

transactions like that.  Good bread too.

Communion.

Cathedral Image

from this week in August, 1996  (I was 51)

         Cathedral Image

From under frond covered palapa

cloud covered afternoon in Cuernavaca

shades the view of cathedral hill

and the gardens of Posada Xochiquetzal 

Cricket clicks on incoming mist

in the midst of midsummer rifts

rippling soft from fumbling fountain

where stone frogs spit bubbling foam

The trill of droplets off the curving dome

begins to drill and file upon roof tile

then streams to wash bloody pyramids and licks

the wounds of the ancient conquering crucifix