Under the tower
In need of. Shower
Long day saying Mass
Now surrounded. Shards of glass.
Collar undone, black pants grey.
A priest off duty. (Off the rails.)
Former entrance, now bypassed.
The tower’s faded glory lasts.
Flags hang limp, limp creatures there
And tourists climb the outer stair
Its free on Sunday, don’t you know
Last night’s kebabs still strewn below.
For night time revellers – a spot to play
The tower speaks in shades of grey.