Comments about pete Hall
Strained light illuminates a cell wall
The candle of a saint.
Not yet framed In the history of the English
The nave of the North East washes sin
Rollers from the German Sea.
Haul heavy Prayers onto winter beach.
A congregation waits
Mute lambs, oft fleeced, now with hope
From a man who walks unaccompanied Into woods of oak.
Where grim hangers
Melt into hillsides.
Homesteads and barns
They have no light
He does not walk alone