THE ALTAR RAIL
It was the smoke that was to rise
when the travellers settled in places
that reminded them of peace. It was the eyes
that were to learn the pattern of the cloth of stars
so they could identify themselves the next time
they sailed past. It was the dead who were to sing
of a life beyond the slanting dwellings in Mørkedalen,
vale of darkness. When they built a flight of steps at the place
of sacrifice, it was so the gods might come down.
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