Saturday, October 9, 2010

Not my City

When I wade to the bright city

The city that is closest to me

And swim the deep channeled water

Running outward to the sea.

Lights suspend and seem pristine

Floating skyward and ascending

On slender filaments unending

To the pious city of Augustine.

My city is not that saintly city

And avarice, sin and strife

Live in daily concourse amid

Both dearth and mortal delight.

Men of business, bodily men

Rise and sweat and tend

To pass beneath that which at

Once is both a means and an end.

Heaven I pray as I pass, consigned

To the concrete and earthly light

That I may return home again

And be redeemed to your truer delight.

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