The Church on Whiteladies Road …
Strewn across evening stone, daylight fades.
That Church, late day’s target, is now an auction house!
God bought out!
Reverse take-over!
Gargoyle, age-pocked face leaning vertiginously over the street,
Acrophobic, hanging from a pediment,
Is your stone face a rictus smile or grimace?
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