yesterday the chapel vestry
two doored the vestry lain in trust
the elders around this purple tablecloth
crocheted with dust upon the
peddle organ’s music and the
hymn books long in being and yet
and yet it holds welcome for
the errant child Sunday schooled
by the pearl necklaced teacher
scripture prizes hard ridden out of galilee
the sunlight fading from the obscura
inside outside the village long ways
his a week of sundays wet wet sundays
the cold walks of a slag-cobbled childhood
toeing the line of god (is) love (is) god of the
net curtains and the fox stoles their status
processing until their final days are laid out
by the mother of all mothering sundays
she closes both doors quietly without lifting
a single speck of dust off a drawn breath
No comments:
Post a Comment