Circle

Candles in the night
cupped in
hands
cupped in
this village
cupped in
surrounding mountains
faint-lit faces
quiet voices
sing ave maria
chant signore santa
as the saint's
procession winds
through winding
medieval alleys
overlooked by
a stone church's
centuries
I watch too
through
a shuttered window
aware of my
exclusion from
periphery to
this irregular
circle of light
because of
language
and religion
but am grateful
for the comfort
of those voices
that old music
those candles
in the night.