At a Little Town Square and Café Outside an Unmoving Cathedral

 

Skin to skin,
Sky to sky—

What else are we mortals,
If we all came from stars?

Then what guilt
In lingering
Over coffee
And a glass of sweet water,

Watching the sunrise
Awaken
The cathedral's great rosette—

Its darkened blues,
Violets,
And reds
Catching the first enlivening light.

And slowly
One begins to understand,

Becoming oneself
Rounded within those eyes,

How patiently
All such towns
Have sought
To net
And square
The orb of a gyrating sun.