Volume > Issue > Old Cathedral

Old Cathedral

A POEM

By T.J. Kelly | October 1983

This granite faith was pressed against the sky

And, wonder, stood alone;

The truth of God translated for the eye,

A massive, silent prayer in stone.

Herring Gulls

They quarrel in low tide mud

Over scraps of rotten food;

They rest on fishhouse…

A Stage Exists Someplace

When players voices no longer ring,

A set becomes a shabby…

To Phoebe*

Phoebe,

Gentle handmaid

Of us all,

Who assisted Paul

And others

Of the early church,

…