The cathedral still stands mighty
Near the river in the city of my childhood.
I have seen it so many ways.
As a child, in wonder at its yellow stone greatness,
Receiving my confirmation.
As a student at Saint Michael’s high school,
Where I watched in terror
As older boys took out silver coins
And began to dig into stone walls,
Carving trenches in the glorious architecture.
What sins they committed
The glory of God, raped by a silver coin
In the sticky fist of a dead end.
Then, more recently,
From her window.
The Cathedral lit up by powerful lights.
Fingers pointing to the sky,
The greatest buildings are alive
Even when seen at 2 am.