Evening Mass

Written in Spain in August 1988

Small, high windows to keep out the heat,
Seeing out nor in, remaining unchanged.
Cool shadows of air in the pale red light
whispers and words, incantations of power.
Changeless, impassive, through the rites of life
unseeing eyes which comprehend all.
Faces, lined, faces from the heat,
summoned, urgent, by the clattering bell.
Bowed women, clad in raven-black,
faces, pained, faces from the world,
stand for the priest, arise for the words,
words, old, spoken through the ages.
Reverent bows and crosses,
words, ‘Behold, here is the Lamb of God’.