Fatima
Easter Remembered.
When the sun glares
there are no shadows the shine
becomes
a haze no thought can penetrate,
a lucidity that reveals nothing
I saw them by the side of the road
two hundred sheep
ragged dogs and a shepherd
to look after them,
and on a hill afar a church,
it is Easter Sunday
wish I could paint the scene
alter the architecture
of the church as it is too modern
an alien in this landscape
of peace and coloured by catholic
postcard idyll.
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