May 24, 2010 - revised July 13, 2010

Faith

Churches, I suddenly think--- no,
hear the word
and see the cathedral at Trani

above the harbor in misting rain---
dun and taupe against the blue gray sky,
clouds stained lilac,

fissures of pink
where the setting sun tries to pierce them.
In Ostuni, the narrow fresco of Santa Elisabeth,

the small church, painted white
as all buildings must be in the centro storica.

When the allies bombed
the harbor there the people rushed
to pile sandbags against the saints

to shield them from percussions that shook down old walls
all over town.
They saved Santa Elisabeth, Santa Maria, Giuseppe,

at least in part---
When we stand before her we cannot fathom the fear
or faith of that time;

or our fathers high above
where the saints are invisible---
where longitude and latitude

joined
like hands in prayer.