Cathedral Square



life does

a slow-motion dance

on summer


footpaths have

their own beat

that lifts in waves

of shimmer-simmer.


traffic pounds

the green-wave,

circles in curious motion

this citadel,

slant-eyes this cool fortress

amidst the quick ocean

of to-and-fro.


dead square

of wilted geraniums

and sun-burnt craniums,



clamour --

a sterile glamour

of surface show.


protesting summer heat,

old -lady church

lifts her skirts

just a beat --

displays a cool brow

and plays to the crowd

their Tuesday night treat.


those within

don't pay much attention --

just kneel to their prayers

and beg intervention.

if God hears

what is it to those

who pass by?

who knows

what was saved?

but who cares?



© John McNeil. All rights reserved.
This poem may be used free of charge, on the condition that copies are not sold for profit in any medium, nor any entrance fee charged to a performance. In exchange, the author would appreciate being notified of any occasion the poem is used in public performance. He may be contacted at: