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Contents Category: Poem
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Article Title: Spires
Article Subtitle: For L.M.B.
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Then, there were spires in every landscape
Tall, tapering fingers pressed together,
The supplications of early sainthood –

Those that the early painters made
To teach the unlettered, while the spires
Called them to listen and to pray.

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Those that the early painters made
To teach the unlettered, while the spires
Called them to listen and to pray.

After these wars, these terrible massacres
The prayerful must go underground,
Becoming barefoot mendicants,

Healing, beyond frontiers
And working upwards for the lowest
With the busy-ness of hands –

As spires, still standing, tell us now.

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