At the Cathderal
one dusk,
the general image,
that of receding
glint of the sun’s lair
The cupola of the basilica,
the basis of its strength;
the idyll-lined frames
for green verse
An idealist I may be,
but certainly no iconoclast
But at the cathedral
this dusk,
black talons of confetti
and silver coins
with the obverse faces of ex-convicts
besiege me.
Nkwachukwu Ogbuagu
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/at-the-cathedral/
