I always looked north, a force of habit I allowed myself

As I took shelter from the rain and driving incessant wind that hung over

The valley and clung like a finely woven tight spider’s web around my throat on the hill.

I never went to the other side of the town and looked south

Even though my oldest friend lived in that direction.

My heart was beyond the boundary of the city, a village in all but name

As the Cathedral grew even out of the densest mist coming off the rivers.