Some momentary vision of great
Art? — sunglint piercing shadow

on Chartres’ marble wall of
wide-eyed saints we’ve moiled

through dense sleet to see
on our brief stay... Or back

in a slow Southern town,
just strolling on a summer

afternoon, the strangely
pungent odor of a horse-

trailer, tails twitching on
those great rumps gleaming

egglike through the portal,
that leaves us on the

curbside, Dumb.