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.
