Cathedral; (after the Rodin sculpture; for B.M.)
''There is a chapel inside a look where even God comes to pray.'' Bone-white balustrade, blue veins whisper along the nave. Two hands, in the lightest clasp, become crown, become basilica overseeing the dark and silenced town. Barely a touch for support. Instead, they trust
a word, a moment's sight, the buttress of pale sky. Their fortress -- holding in, holding out pure light.