Observed On A Slant

Part open part wooded part fenced the route still has places to stop places under cover places to sit and look

Pious intonations do not piety make nor the bending of knees nor the tracing of fingers through empty space

I do not want to know where to put my fingers I want to know why the pieces move

Past the straight road leading upwards to the curving road beyond the part where one looks down upon the whole of the town