AT THE ABBEY 1968.

Dark evening,

trees swayed

by hard wind,

taxi lights

lit up

the abbey church,

domum Dei,

I stood

on the forecourt

peering at

the shadowy church,

I monaci sono

in chiesa

an Italian said,

I followed him

into the church

and we sat in

the side pews

in semi-darkness,

è Compieta

he said,

I nodded

and stared ahead

at the one red light

at the altar end,

a monk

dressed in black

walked

from cloister

to the bell tower

genuflecting

towards the altar

end first,

Dom Peter

the man said

pointing

at the monk,

other monks

came in

and genuflecting

took their places

in the choir stalls

either side

of the church

and stood facing

the altar end,

then once all

the monks

had settled

the lights

went out

and a voice

chanted out

converte me Deus,

other monks

chanted on

in the dark,

the world outside

living it up

and down,

here

just darkness

and chants

and an embracing silence

accompanying

the chanting.

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AT THE ABBEY 1968. - Hello Poetry