The Dream At Dawn Poem by RIC BASTASA

it was dark
and he rushed to the room
where Fr. S. was waiting
for his confession,
it took an hour
for the recollection about

the bad things he did,
and it was completely
recited, after-which
the sentences of hail mary's,
our father's, and glory be's
were recited,

when he came out
the church door was already closed
and it was eerie
walking through that narrow path
that spits a sinner
out of its holy door

outside it is raining
and there are no more people
in the park
with few lights gleaming
giving a scenery of
impenetrable haze
of shadows and
guesses,

he felt light. His feet
began to float in the air
and he rose above
the acacia trees
where in the amazement
of a miracle
he spent more hours
in the air and rain
and darkness
contemplating still