Visit to an Abandoned Church

by John Grey

The location,
high atop the cliff face,
is striking.

But its pale brick walls
have paid for this splendid site,
as any easy target
for relentless hurricanes,
and even the slowly eroding
salty wind.

Now, the inside is gutted,
stained-glass broken,
rot claiming
the few remaining pews
and each brick and stone
is at a different stage
of departing from the whole.

I stroll what once was aisle,
stand below the high window
that once, like an illustration
from the life of saints,
shone light on the altar.

Outside, the scenery’s
as remarkable as it’s ever been,
a glorious homage
to its own creation.

But within the wreck,
time’s taken over from religion.
A mouse in the old vestibule
outranks God.