PILGRIMAGE 



Three days after the
      coup's defeat, with
communism all but 
          buried, I came to
  Canterbury to 
                 rummage
          through lost

    dreams.The houses 
rose like white
        birch on the hill, 
    guardians of a vision
             that still draws
 the tourists of New York
       and Boston.
Here they lived in families of 
      
   hundreds, sisters, 
brethren, celibate 
    and busy, putting "hands to 
work, hearts to God," packaging their
       seed and crafting chairs 
        
       for angels. Somewhere 
on the grounds the last Shaker
           sister ("a bit reclusive at 
   ninety-five") stays hidden
      behind thick curtains 
           of memory.  Furtively, we 
      searched the windows 

   for a sign.In the
 laundry, amidst belts
       and clever gears, the tour guide tells
how Engels once cheered
         a sagging Marx:
"Think of the Shakers!"
          words that now echo
      through polished, empty 

     rooms. Dead dreams 
pile up like
          New Hampshire leaves, but still 
   this ground feels hallowed,
        for on the hill
an idea, powerful as Moscow's 
      crowds, still speaks of purpose, 
                     of simple gifts 
   and sharing.



Visiting Shaker Village after 
communism is overthrown in Russia
Canterbury, N.H.
September 8, 1991

    

All written material © Bill Schechter, 2016
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