| Butler Pennsylvania 17
Franklin Street Franklin Street was our cool cathedral to play in vaulted high in green with shards of light breaking through leaf-windows in trees to fall on mosaics of brownish-yellow bricks curbed by shaded aisles flanked with patches of green bordered by side-altar steps where flowers threw off scents like plumes of incense and porches gave access to narrow transepts at whose distant end a lone stained glass window glowed reddish orange for vespers and none. We played different there under that arching canopy celebrating our rituals with quiet fervor in restrained games in a sanctuary suited for prayer between eight mighty pillars flanking the nave, evenly spaced bearing the weight of the arches— or were they oaks? |