alone in Santa Fe,
I’m wandering around aimlessly & 
full of intention —
& on Saturday morning make my way to the cathedral park.

Just outside the cathedral,
I meet the most beautiful woman —
a statue, a sculpture —
Saint Kateri Tekakwitha
“First Indian of North America 
to be Promoted a Saint”

She wears turquoise drop earrings,
a turquoise necklace and bracelet,
& holds four feathers,
a corn cob
& a rosary 
in her hands

I’m so taken by her 
that I find myself 
blocking the way for others who also want to see, 
& take a photo,

& I walk inside the cathedral 
as if it were on purpose.

The heavy, old door slams behind me
& I jump, as if
I’ve been caught in the act
& the lady working the desk — a help desk? What is this? 
I’m lost —
says “We really need to fix that”
& I somehow feel like it’s my responsibility.

I don’t know what to do in there, 
so I sit in a pew 
& watch the believers, the Catholics —
there’s something to it, I suppose.

When an elderly lady kneels next to me 
I find myself suddenly 
near tears, so I get up
& consider lighting a candle & I want to 
but I feel wrong 
& also now thinking about Hot Priest

Am I going to laugh or cry?

It’s time to go.

When I step outside, it’s still sunny
& Kateri still stands, 
tall.