The church is a ship in the brightening snowstorm;
shafts of light falling in through blue windows.
It’s almost night and starting to get light!
The planet, too, adrift
in an infinite blizzard of stars –
Where most of us are sick
and starving in the pitching dark, and the partying
masters up above
don’t know where we are either.
We love one another. We don’t really know
anyone well, but
we love one
– Franz Wright, ‘5:00 Mass’, in Walking to Martha’s Vineyard (New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 2003), 28.