Wednesday, June 23, 2021

The Hallway

Dust motes swim in the light,
a shaft angled perfectly
from the high window above the pegs
in the hallway where coats gathered in winter
for solace when Orion ruled the sky.

It is July,
and this space of cedar and oak,
of children conquering steps
on the staircase two,
even three at a time,
is empty, quiet.
Even the ghosts have left.

I will sweep, but not now,
not while I sit in a straight-back chair
and wait for the sun to fall,
for light to touch my forehead
in this chapel of grace.
It is good to be here,
for loneliness is precursor
to the perfection of God.

One day, Gabriel’s wing
will sweep me away with the sun.

~William Hammett

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