The ride through the December streets of Sherwood Forest and Buena Vista
winding up to the West End
was not all that
long
but from the back of the Volvo wagon
on the way to church
six kids primed for choir practice
could count
a million
Moravian stars
A child’s game but
I must confess
I wish my eyes
were still so trained
on these other journeys
to look for
bursts of
light
Said Another Way 