Imprisoned outside iron gates
tourists jostle
for a pew with a view
but part
as crow-clad youths sweep past
it would be fine
if it weren’t for the tourists

Inside
Ruebens’ Madonna and Magi are tucked
With baby Jesus
under electronic blankets
while college members
huddle
behind weighty ropes of learning
candles hide their faltering
light under a glassy bushel

Organ studies fail
to mute ringing stonework
stained fan-vaulted
perfection transfixes pilgrims
scared to waste a moment
by praying
they clutch at foreign books
wondering
when their turn will come to sing

Swamped in surplices
and borrowed piety junior members
pause
to take a bow
process back to stumbling
normality
the public linger
in holy contemplation
while their gods return to essays
or the bar