Off a room of the cloisters
I met Dom Andrew
bookbinding in silence
bearded and white cowled,
in silentio sit Deus,
Mancunian he said
saw picture in book
of monastic cell
and that were it,
I sensed the coldness
of the room
body shivered
ears felt pained,
il avait de la neige à l'extérieur
the French monk said
huddled in his black habit,
saw the snow on trees
and purity of it,
she took my hand
warm it was
and promised ***
Dom Charles tonsured
dark haired gazed at me
through thick lens glasses
eyes like ***** holes
in snow,
I have been all things unholy
and if God can work
through me Francis said
he can work through anyone,
I mowed the grass by the church
and Dom Frederick said
you've done well,
qui tutto sono fratelli
the Italian monk said
as he helped me dry up
the dishes,
beyond her dark hairs
lay the Kingdom of Eve
and joyousness,
bell tolled in the bell tower
by George or Hugh
or both for Terce,
a monk read in the refectory
from a book on Oliver Cromwell
as we sat and ate in silence,
bonitátem fecísti
*** servo tuo Dómine,
the old monk opposite
ate with gusto
spooned food as if
he may never eat again,
nog steeds sneeuw buiten
the Danish monk told me
coming in with vegetables
from the garden for lunch,
indeed snow still there
trees covered and fields
that I saw,
if you want to you can
she said so I did,
Dom Bruno said later
that Dom Andrew had cancer
and was silent on it,
Deus meus libera me,
and we licked our cutlery clean
between meals and put away
under our tables
in a large napkin
and George said unhygenic
but we did,
there is no great genius
without some touch of madness
Gareth said quoting Aristotle,
sunlight on flagstones
in the church
warmed by midday,
Compline bell told
of the end of day.