Tell the beads

Circuit riding the Oort’s

ministering the ghosts and specters,

lost and wandering the starry æther

looking for misplaced and forgotten souls,

corporeal bodies languishing.

I find the old Dutchman and his crew,

him on his knees shooting knuckle~bones

with the devil while behind his back clenched

in his fist, fingers crossed, his rosary dangles.

I pace the ecliptic reciting, singing

matins, sext and vespers.

Tolling the hours of days

telling the beads and knots.

Penance rides, nay slips my fingers

soon will come compline.


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