Dear Ste. Odile,
Do you not see the point?
I chose you quite by chance
My sheer sister
From among all the others
To be the gnomon
Whose measured shadow falls
On all my delicate sorrows
I was thinking only
Of the sharp beauty
That you sew into the sky
Why did you draw me
An arbitrary pilgrim?
For I lost myself
In the high dwindling
Of your Gothic schemes
As you raised
Your long, ascetic finger
Warning the insouciant
streets
To behave and pay attention
YOU MIGHT ALSO LIKE
Deliver Us from Evil
In a recent New York Times article entitled “Freedom With a Side of Guilt: How Food Delivery…
Natural Law Needs Revelation
Natural law theory teaches that God embedded a teleological moral order in the world, such that things…
Letters
Glenn C. Loury makes several points with which I can’t possibly disagree (“Tucker and the Right,” January…
