‘tween
book pages
and cold smooth stones
and nevermores
and mores again
she falters
if just briefly
sun flickering out
behind the stained glass
and once this was
and twice this goes
and three for the money
and blinks back on
neon crowned cross
because that’s how we roll
tithe
bleed
ingest
go
4 comments:
it made me think of the sometimes sorry affairs of church politics
I like the intersections between childhood and now, ordinary and non-ordinary.
Thanks both for bringing your own insights. I love the different things people take away from the same starting point.
On my part, I was looking at some of the pictures of Notre-Dame I took while in Paris. I remembered my brother telling me how tiny towns in Mexico will have these churches covered in neon because that is the most expensive and fancy decoration they can place on the church. That’s their testament to God. Are rose windows the neon of yesteryear? Out of those ruminations spilled this poem.
Love the back story.
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