Early morning
 	before he unlocks the church gate
 	the rector kneels before
 	the gridiron fence surrounding the Cathedral,
 	not in prayer
 	but to collect empty wine bottles,
 	snack bags, and used condoms.
After shoving them into a bag
 	he turns the latch key and enters the churchyard
 	shutting it behind him.
 	The hollow, thunderous deadbolt
 	echoes through trees like the voices of
 	ancient saints.
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