Hallowe'en
high-up in the organ-loft
Saint Anonymous
where pillars of darkness
hide his smooth white face
weeps
for the unarrivals
the pilgrims
just off the beaten-track
in the chromium-plated
neon
of the wayside diners
who almost hear his call
from the juke-box in the corner
and shadows on the wall
poem by STEPHEN BRIAN Brady
Added by Poetry Lover
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