beyond above moonlight

stilled lofty stark peak

beauty be gone 

breaking daylight's another truth

Not perverse travel 

or hiding place, as said,

to each their own Holy Faith.

There is no soiled soul in stead

or in those dancing face cold sandy wind.

Pity poor priest poets

who passing through it

not willing God's true heat

walk the sea's shore in booted feet

never knowing it.

This is not their home.

October 2K1 New Mexico